Across the Stars
by Ranger24
Summary: It is the 2683 year of Mankind, Humanity has stretchered across the stars. Across untold numbers of worlds men are born, live, and die. Yet dark things linger in the void of space, evils and horrors no man has yet seen or imagined. MASSIVE Crossover- Includes Warhammer 40k, Halo, Mass Effect, Star Wars, Gundam, Battlestar Galactica, Gears of War, Transformers, and much more. R
1. Introduction

Introduction

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_"In this world, Is the destiny of mankind controlled by some transcendental entity or law? Is it like the hand of god hovering above? At least it is true that man has no control even over his own will."_ - The Introduction to every episode of Berserk.

It is the 2683 year of Mankind, Humanity has stretched across the stars. Across untold numbers of worlds men are born, live, and die. In the Imperium of Orion Humanity is the first among equals in a never ending war for survival. On the edges on Imperial Territory alien races and humans who know not whom they should truly bend the knee to, linger and plot. From with in its borders the Imperium is beset by traitors, heretics, and abominations.

Only the keen eyed eagles of the Imperium stand between civilization and barbarism. The Emperor's Legions are multitude; from the Astartes and their venerable Primarchs, to the valiant Imperial Guardsmen, to the wisdom of the Jedi Council, and the ever alert Inquisition. They are but a few among untold billions.

Yet dark things linger in the void of space, evils and horrors no man has yet seen or imagined. At the end of all things, when the final bell is wrung and last defenders of civilization make their stand, will they be enough? Or will they be swept aside to make way for a new dark age of cruelty and madness?


	2. Chapter 1: Cradles

Chapter 1: The Cradles

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_"The many are greater than the few, the united mightier than the divided. With this new accord we shall all become brothers and sisters at arms, from now until the end of time."- The Immortal God Emperor of Mankind, at the signing of the Anaxes Accord, 2632_

Pax Imperious, a massive space craft the size of a small continent was a marvel of engineering. As the heart of the Imperium of Orion it was the true seat of power within the Imperial space. Surrounded by an ever vigilant fleet of thousands of vessels, Pax Imperious was well equipped to defend itself from enemy attacks.

Deep within its heart was the Imperial Palace, a massive fortress of impregnable might. It was home to the God Emperor of Mankind, the ruler of the Imperium of Orion, an ancient being of vast psychic might and wisdom.

_'It was also_', Revan Grandmaster of the Revanchist Order thought, '_a pain in the ass to navigate_'. Even guided by the force and having been here many times before he still got lost in its cavernous, gold lined halls. He could admire the splendor but it was in serious excess in some places. He had been here almost an hour now but judging by the number of guards he was encountering he was close to throne room.

Sure enough in ten minutes he passed through a set of massive double doors, large enough for a great machine to pass through. Beyond was the Imperial throne room, a vast chamber with a vaulted ceiling so high that it could almost rain inside the chamber. The center piece was a vast throne of golden metal set upon a dias. Before it was a wide semicircle of seats, all facing towards the chair and its single occupant.

The God Emperor of Mankind was tall, strong, and in every way exuded power. He was dark haired and tanned skinned, resplendent in a suit of golden power armor, with a great red cape flowing behind him, and a golden sword resting at the side of the throne. It was not just his physical presence that left men in awe but his psychic presence.

Though Psychic and Force abilities had long ago been proved to be similar but still separate, Revan could always feel the Emperor's raw power, so vast was his presence. Revan was said to be the strongest force user in the galaxy and even he knew that his own power was barely a fraction of the Emperor's. Power that the Emperor need to face down the foes that he strove against constantly.

The other guests of the Emperor were taking their seats or appearing via holotransmission from systems away. The sheer number of important individuals presence would have made such a gathering an assassin's dream come true in regards to high value targets being in one place. No one here was less than a four star general or admiral.

There were the twenty one Primarchs, the Emperor's Genetic progeny. Horus, as Warmaster was required to attend this meeting in person as had many of the others. Only Angron, Konrad Cruze, and Rachnus Rageous were transmitting via holo terminal. Kruze was on a distant campaign, Angron was considered to unstable to attend in person, and Racheus being a blank would have made several of the attendees rather uncomfortable.

There were also the members of the Jedi Council. Grand master Yoda was present in person, along with Masters Windu Shaak Ti. Masters Plo Koon, Tol Braga, Orgus Din, Obi-wan Kenobi, Kiwiiks, Syo Barakan, Mical, Ki Adi Mundi, and Revan's own great great grand daughter Satele Shan appeared via holo transmission. Satele gave him a nod but said nothing as he took his own seat, she was the first jedi in the family since himself and Bastila.

Others in attendance included Lord Castellan Urskar Creed, Lord General Solon, General Graza of Imperial Intelligence, Lord Admiral Hood, Fleet Master Rtas'vandum, Head of Departmento Munitorum Janarus, Representative of the Craftworlds Eldard Ulthran, and President of the Imperial Senate Palpatine. Last but not least, appearing by holoprojection was Emissary Taldeer the Imperium's sole connection to the Citadel Council.

Malcador the Sigillite, the regent of Terra and the Emperor's right hand banged his staff three times upon the floor to bring the meeting to order. The Emperor rose from his massive throne and opened his arms as if to embrace them.

"My friends," he began. "I thank you for responding so swiftly to my summons. The time has come once more for the Imperial Review ere the start of the new year."

He gave a nod to Horus who rose in his turn.

"My lords and ladies," he began, "this past year has seen both fortune and fault. The Imperium still stands proudly but the question remains to be answered as to if it will continue standing. We are all know of the troubles that have plagued the Adeptus Astartes in the past year. Heavy losses against Tyranids and Orks, continued hunts for traitor marines, all the while our chapters struggle to maintain their strength in the face of constant warfare. I recognize Lord Magnus now to speak further of this matter."

Horus took his seat and the massive ruby skinned Magnus stood up dwarfing all in the room. The powerful psyker was on a level which made him easily an equal to Revan in terms of power though it was still little compared to the likes of the Emperor.

"My lords and ladies," Magnus began. "It is my regret to inform you that the Adeptus Astartes have suffered considerable losses this passed year. Many chapters are now under strength, their recruiting worlds struggling to replace the losses that have been sustained from over a century of constant warfare. Recruiting worlds are also being threatened by enemy assaults. A descendant chapter of my own Thousand Sons has actually dropped to nearly fifty percent effectives. We must make more efforts to replace our lost Space Marines and to ensure the survival of the Imperium."

There was resounding agreements from the Primarchs and several others but most remained silent. The Emperor rose as Magnus resumed his seat.

"My heart goes out to my valiant Astartes," the Emperor replied. "But there are other claims to be made. Master Yoda."

Yoda, a wizened, squat alien pressed a button upon his chair causing it to lift up into the air, hovering so that all could see him.

"Suffered greatly, the Jedi have," Yoda stated in his typical manner of speaking. "One with the force, many are. Replaced our losses, we have not. Great darkness I sense upon the horizon."

"With respect Master Jedi," Lord Hood said. "Things are already dark, I doubt they could get much bleaker."

There was a brief pause. Yoda chuckled lightly to himself.

"Wish it were so I do," he replied. "Yet to come the worst is."

"Lord Hood," The Emperor said as Yoda lowered himself. Hood stood up his face grim.

"I am sure I speak for many of us when I say that our current position untainable," he said. "Keeping the Tyranids at bay is costing us more ships than our production can keep pace with. We have barely a hundred guard regiments in reserve in case of new front opening up. The longer we have to keep fighting the less likely we are to win."

"There may be some relief for you Lord Admiral," Master Windu replied. "If we progress at our current pace the Separatists should be defeated within the year, freeing up much needed forces."

"Indeed," Palpatine said rising from his chair. "The sooner the Separatists are defeated the sooner we can return our efforts to more serious foes, and give a good deal of our civilian population a much needed break from constant warfare."

"Lord Revan," the Emperor said suddenly. "What say you on this? Will the Separatists be defeated within the year?"

Revan frowned, grateful for his mask to conceal his expression. He rose to his feet and spoke.

"As you know, your majesty, the Separatists are nearing their limit," he stated. "If we can successfully remove Count Dooku and General Grevious then yes, it is likely the Separatists will fall. However the two remain difficult to locate and will still prove to be difficult to defeat. I need not remind all present that Dooku was once a member of this Council and that Grevious defeated five jedi in a single battle."

He noted Ki Adi Mundi's grimace, as he reminded him of his disastrous defeat on Hypori.

"Even after they are defeated however it is likely the Separatist threat shall not simply evaporate before our eyes," Revan continued. "We will face hold outs and resistance for a long time after Dooku and Grevious are defeated. Until the last Separatist factory is destroyed and the last Separatist commander surrenders this war will continue."

Revan's dour pronouncement did little to improve anyone's mood. He had left out urgent reports from his agents far a field or in deep cover. Many were so dangerously placed he dare not reveal them or their information to anyone but the Emperor and the Emperor alone. He took his seat and awaited the Emperor to call upon the next speaker.

"Emissary Taldeer," the Emperor began. "What news from the Citadel?"

_"My lord,"_ she began. _"I must inform you that is unlikely that we shall absorb Citadel Space into the Imperium without conflict. The Sith Empire has established their own Interest Center here upon the Citadel causing further complications."_

Even more expressions turned sour at this statement. Taldeer however pressed on.

_"As for the Systems Alliance while there is a growing movement within their populace to rejoin with the Imperium the majority seem to prefer their new allies. Information recently crossed my desk regarding a ship that is soon to be launched by the Systems Alliance based upon a human and turian design."_

More murmurs meet this.

"General Garza," the Emperor stated. "What are the chances of getting an agent aboard this new ship?"

"On such short notice my lord," Garza began. "Most unlikely. The crew will likely be specially selected and I'm afraid it will take time to get any intel on this new ship, let alone any agents aboard it."

"So I see," the Emperor replied. "In such case we shall assume a passive stance. Gather what information you can about this new vessel. Have a report ready for me within the next ten standard days."

"Of course your majesty," Garza said with a bow.

As matters steadily turned to more civil matters Revan eased his mind into the stream of the force feeling events far beyond himself. Events the force drew him to even as meeting steadily moved towards its close.

* * *

Sub-Sector Aurelia, a cluster of worlds near the very edge of the Imperium of Orion. From this frontier came the Blood Ravens, a chapter of the Imperium's Space Marines, descendants of Magnus the Red and his Thousand Sons Legion. The Sub-Sector also possessed the dubious honor of guarding what was in essence the back door to the Tython System, ancient home world of the Jedi Order.

Now however the planets of Aurelia were consumed with war and carnage. Savage aliens sought to overrun the sub-sector and break the Blood Ravens once and for all. It was a war the Blood Ravens would not lose without a fight.

Though they were scattered and depleted, Captian Davin Thule of the Blood Raven's fourth company had come to defend the sub sector with his remaining veterans and a handful of raw recruits. For any warriors other than the Adeptus Astartes it would have seemed an impossible task. For the Blood Ravens, it was just another war in service to the Emperor.

So thought Force Commander Aramius as his drop pod moved into the launch tubes. Mere weeks ago he had been a young promising Sergeant a little over a century of service under his belt, steadily climbing his way through the ranks of the Blood Ravens, until he had received word of his sudden promotion and transfer. Chapter command was usually quiet scattered, trying to keep tabs on a crusading chapter of Space Marines was hard work, Aramius had in fact never even seen Chapter Master and Chief Librarian Azariah Kyras in person.

Yet here he was, newly promoted to a position just junior to a full captaincy, about to drop into a battle for the Blood Ravens only stable recruiting worlds. The galaxy moved in strange ways.

The light over his head turned from red to yellow alerting him that the launch tube was armed. He did a quick head count on the small force he would lead into battle. Sergeant Tarkus, a near legendary veteran within the Blood Raven's was his immediate subordinate and second in command. His squad of Marines would form the core of Aramius's fighting forces. The bald Sergeant gave him a nod which he returned.

Then the light turned green and the drop pod fell. There was a sensation of weightlessness as the drop pod fell. The craft began to shake as it hit the upper atmosphere buffeted by up drafts and the drop pod's thrusters trying to keep the craft on course. It's target was a small clearing near the thick of the fighting on the planet of Calderis.

Half a second later there was loud crashing noise and cushioning foam filled the drop pods interior, absorbing the worst of the impact. A quick check around the horn confirmed his squad was at full status, no injuries or worse. Then the pod doors gave way and the blinding sunlight filled the cramped quarters of the drop pod.

Calderis was a dry, hot, arid world, barely fit for human habitation. Small hamlets and villages were the most common form of habitation with the only major settlement being the city of Argus. Yet from its fierce and independent warriors the Blood Ravens selected many of their recruits and trained them in its harsh and unforgiving wilderness. It was the cradle and future of the chapter, and he would not see it fall.

He could already here the harsh retort of bolter fire, mixed in with the cries of dying Orks. He could smell blood and smoke permeating the air. And he could see the vast hordes of Orks advancing across the rough terrain.

His vox communicator crackled to life suddenly.

"_Scouts stay in cover! Kill the Orks that are out in the open!" _A harsh male voice shouted, over the roar of a heavy bolter. _"Welcome Commander, this is Captain Davian Thule in command here on Calderis. We are battling the Orks that threaten this world_."

"I read you Captain Thule," Aramius answered. "What is your status?"

"_You have dropped right into the combat zone. I am north of you with several squads out initiates. We are under heavy fire and are losing control of our flanks. Move north and provide support_."

"Understood," Aramius replied. "We are moving."

As if on cue however a mass of green skins discovered them and began advancing upon him.

"Oy!" One shouted in its foul voice. "Suma da humiez got behind us! Kill 'em!"

With practiced ease he brought up his bolt pistol and with a well placed shot blew the cranium of the offending Ork apart, before charging in with his chainsword roaring to life. His weapon's whirling teeth tore through flesh and bone, carving apart Ork after Ork. Well placed Bolter fire from Tarkus and his squad, combined with a grenade from Tarkus finished the mob off.

The Space Marines advanced, killing Ork after Ork without mercy or hesitation. The Orks meet them head on with furious and mad charges trying to close to melee distance, only to be mowed down by bolter fire and ripped apart by Aramius's chainsword. Well placed grenades killed whole squads of the brutes, throwing their foul corpses into the air.

It took Aramius and his small fighting force less than two minutes to carve their way through to Captain Thule's exposed flank. The Captain himself stood a top a battered bunker, firing away into the charging masses with a heavy bolter while scouts fought from ramparts and trenches, maybe a dozen or so, and a few automated bolter turrets churned out fire against a massive Ork horde.

Aramius glanced to Tarkus who nodded before shooting an Ork in the skull. The Marines struck the Ork's flank pushing into catch the Orks in a cross fire.

_"_Reinforcements have arrived_,"_ Captain Thule shouted. "Push forward Initiates!"

With ruthless efficency the Space Marines slaughtered the Orks, killing them all with bolter fire and grenades until the ground surrounding the bunker was covered in ork bodies and blood. A good start to a day as far as Aramius was concerned.

"_Well fought commander_," Captain Thule said over the vox. "_But the green skins will not give us much time before they attack again. I need you and sergeant Tarkus to take charge of driving the Orks back. Move up to the ruins east of here and prepare to repel the next Ork wave."_

"Yes my Lord," Aramius said waving Tarkus to rally them men and follow him.

The ruins Captain Thule spoke of were little more than standing stones, just adequate enough to be used as cover. But they presented a clear field of fire and would help blunt the Orks next assault. Aramius knew that Thule likely planned to regroup his forces before reinforcing the ruins. Thus they would have to hold the ruins by themselves for some time.

No sooner had they taken position then an Ork war trukk smashed through a barricade, swerving wildly as its driver fought with the steering wheel to keep the vehicle from rolling over. A sizable force of Orks, clearly more than the vehicle was meant to hold poured out waving their choppas and shootas.

"Ork Vehicle," Tarkus reported. "Stay in cover. That truck has a heavy gun."

Sure enough said heavy gun came to life moments later spraying high caliber rounds all over the place. A few struck fellow orks while others caused bits of fragile masonry to explode. Aramius took cover to avoid a similar fate.

"More shootin, less dyin ya gits!" An Ork shouted over the raging battle.

"Get em boyz!" Another yelled. "Der in the ruins!"

Despite the Orks armor support the Space Marines still made short work of the Ork mob pushing them back and keeping them away from the ruins proper. The Ork driver banged his fist against the side plating of his vehicle in fury.

"Bleh!" He snarled over the bolter fire. "Gotta get me some more boyz! And dese humiez is foukkin up me trukk!" He turned the trukk around running over one of his own wounded in the process. "Back through the tunnel!"

As the trukk drove off the Space Marines mopped up the stragglers with ease.

"_Well done, Commander," _Captain Thule stated over the vox. _ "Those orks have opened a path through the hill somehow. Move forward and seal it."_

"Yes my lord," Aramius said before gesturing onwards with his chainsword.

The Marines advanced up the path the Trukk had come down and soon found themselves approaching a small camp or supply depot that the Orks had put together, guarding what appeared to be the entrance to an abandoned mine. The Marines advanced into the camp, killing Orks left and right. A heavy bolter in a tower however opened up on them forcing Aramius into cover. Tarkus however quickly destroyed the feeble construct with a well placed grenade. The camp was theirs quickly enough.

"_The greenskins are clearly using that mine as a passage Commander_," Thule stated over vox. _"Seal it by any means necessary."_

"The orks have stacked fuel and ordinance near the entrance," Tarkus reported.

Aramius nodded.

"Sergeant."

Tarkus, pulled out his last grenade and lobbed into the Orks supply cache. A second later the entire supply cache exploded collapsing the entrance to the mine for good.

"_Good work Space Marines_," Thule stated. _"The green skins will not be using that passage again, any time soon."_

"But the leader managed to escape through the tunnel before we could kill him," Tarkus noted. "That was our chance to cut this invasion off at the head."

_"He will show himself again Tarkus_," Thule replied in certain tones. _"And when he does we will be ready. Thunderhawks are on route. Prepare for extraction."_

Aramius nodded and turned away from the smoldering remains of the tunnel. This battle was over, but the war had only just begun.

* * *

More than a few systems away, orbiting the star Tythos was the planet Tython, ancestral home of the Jedi order. Recently rediscovered the Jedi order had moved the majority of its operations into one of the large temples on the planet and restored it into a functioning Jedi academy. Dozens of apprentices and padawans trained in its lush mountain valleys under the watchful eyes of many Jedi masters and Knights. In orbit a force of three _Valiant_-class Command cruisers and six _Thranta_-class Corvettes provided security and a stop gap against hostiles landing on the planet.

Amidst these warships a single shuttle craft began making its way towards the surface of Tython. It made a somewhat sloppy if passable landing on one of the main shuttle pads and disgorged its cargo. Padawan Webch Anter, human male, slim, light skinned, short dark brown hair, and a long scar over one of his blue eyes stepped out onto Tython for the first time.

For the past few years he had drifted between various masters in the Imperial military. Though he lack a lightsaber of his own he had seen action before now. He was just past twenty years of age, ripe for Knighthood.

He found a single jedi waiting for him just off the platform, judging from the cut of his robes, a master. They sized each for a moment before he gave a respectful nod. The elder jedi motioned for him to follow and they walked towards the main structures.

"Welcome to Tython Padawan. Everyone at the temple is looking forward to meeting you," the elder Jedi said leading him into a small communications room. "Your former Master's praise your combat skills. They say your becoming an expert duelist."

"It's easy to excell when you are trained by the best," Webch replied modestly as the elder jedi turned to face him.

"The Jedi council will assign you a new Master to oversee your final trials," the elder jedi continued, satisfied with his response. "You'll be tested in ways you can't imagine."

_'I can imagine quiet a lot,_' Webch thought wistfully.

"But when you leave Tython, you'll know what it means to be a Jedi Knight. More Importantly you'll know yourself."

"I am eager to face these trails," Webch replied promptly. "Where do I start?"

"There's a speeder here that will take you to-," the elder Jedi began only to be interrupted by the com system chiming an alert. The Elder jedi quickly pulled out his holocom. "Hold on, getting an emergency signal."

A tiny projection of a bith Padawan appeared on the small device. He spoke in his native language which thankfully Webch had picked up his time with the fleet.

"_Under attack, repeat, under attack!"_ He cried. "_Flesh Raiders are invading the Padawan training grounds! They have blasters, send help!"_

The bith then ducked out of view as blaster shots flew passed him. The elder Jedi frowned.

"Flesh Raiders, armed with blasters?" He wondered aloud. "He must be mistaken."

"What are these things?" Webch asked. "Animals?"

"Flesh raiders are a species of hostile natives," the elder Jedi explained turning to the communications terminal. "They're smart enough to use tools and violent beyond reason. I'm sending every able bodied Jedi to the Padawan training grounds right away- especially you."

"What makes me any better than the others?" Webch asked.

"You've been trained for dangers like this," the elder jedi replied. "I know I can count on you."

'_Right send the newly arrived Padawan who doesn't even have a lightsaber to fight creatures named Flesh Raiders,' _Webch thought. '_Guess who probably isn't getting a council seat in the next century?'_

"Take the speeder outside to the training grounds," the elder Jedi ordered. "Push back the Flesh Raiders- and find out if they're really using advanced weapons."

_'I wouldn't call blasters that advanced_,' Webch thought thinking of all the weapons he'd seen with the fleet.

"Go, I'll catch up after I alert the Jedi Council. May the Force be with you," the elder Jedi finished making it clear they were done.

With an inward sigh Webch walked out of the communications room and hurried to find the speeder. He powered it on and then took off towards the sounds of fighting in the distance.

It wasn't that he was afraid of fighting, far from it. He'd just learned a few things about practicality on the front lines, somethings many Jedi could do to learn. The short was to short however for him to spend over long mulling over his thoughts.

He soon landed and was rushed into the fray, practice saber flashing with yellow energy beams along its edges. Though not as powerful as a true lightsaber, such a weapon could still kill and he soon proved that. The Flesh Raiders were huge, shark faced creatures. Most had crude blades they had fashioned while others had small blaster pistols that seemed awkward in their over large hands.

Still the creatures were numerous and strong, they seemed to be everywhere with the Jedi struggling to form a cohesive holding position or counter attack. So Webch rushed in, killing any flesh raider he could, picking off straggling groups with quick and lethal attacks. It made him feel almost sick. These creatures seemed to have no regard for their own lives.

In between fights he stopped to rescue Padawans who were clearly in over their heads against the Flesh Raiders.

After killing almost half a platoon by himself his holocom beeped alerting him to a call. He pulled it out and switched it on. A tiny version of the master he had spoken with appeared clutching his leg.

"_You're unharmed good_," he said before wincing. _"Flesh raider shot me in the leg while I was rescuing some Padawans."_

_'I believe that proves that they do have blasters,'_ Webch thought for a moment.

_"Don't know where these things got blasters, but they know how to use them," _the elder jedi continued. _ "I've been evacuated to a medcenter but the fighting isn't over."_

_'No really?' _ Webch thought but kept his comments within his mind. "I'll push back the enemy whatever it takes."

_"We need to stop them at the source,"_ the Elder Jedi replied. _"Another padawan found a cave tunnel the Flesh Raiders use to enter this valley. I need you at that tunnel making sure the Flesh Raiders don't get anymore reinforcements through it."_

"Not sure what you expect me to do by myself," Webch replied grimly, believing he had just been volunteered for a suicide mission.

_"You won't be alone log, Master Orgus Din is on his way there too," _the elder jedi said. _"We need to end this conflict before anyone else gets hurt. Find the tunnel along the mountain range. May the force be with you."_

The call cut out a second later and with another inward sigh Webch set off again into the fray. It didn't take him long to find the cave however. The place was crawling with flesh raiders who seemed far to eager to reach the valley. Webch put them down with practiced ease.

As the passage grew narrower however he began to realize that he was nearing a choke point of some kind. Perhaps if it was narrow enough he could use it keep the Flesh Raiders numbers at bay until this Orgus Din could arrive. As he rose up higher he knew he had to be getting close.

Then he heard voices and slowed, listening in.

"Stop struggling Padawan," a cold male voice said. "Your life was over the moment you set foot here."

"You are jedi," the same bith from the holo from before said, clearly pained. "Why would you kill me?"

"Because the order must evolve- and you are weak."

Webch knew Sith talk when heard it and quickly stepped out of hiding, the bith was on his knees before a pale dark haired human flanked on either side by large and particularly vicious looking Flesh Raiders.

"Whoever you are step away from that Padawan," Webch proclaimed trying to sound firm and in control.

The dark haired man sized him up thoughtfully while his Flesh Raider guards drew their weapons.

"Hmm. You are ... dangerous," he said wearily. "You killed my soldiers."

"He commands the Flesh Raiders attacking us," the wounded Bith said looking up.

"Not attacking," the man said firmly, "cleansing. And we have only begun."

"Lay down your weapons," Webch said trying to appear in control of the situation while his mind raced to figure out a plan. "I don't want to hurt you."

"The old order is dead," the dark haired man replied taking a metal cylinder from his belt. A bright blue blade came to life out of the tube and Webch power on his training saber his heart racing. "Long live the new order!"

The Flesh Raiders moved but Webch was faster. With swift strikes he cut them down before moving to engage the dark haired man. His practice saber was meet by the lightsaber and he found himself in his first serious duel. He quickly discovered however that while his opponent was well equipped he clearly lacked in experience.

He fell for an obvious faint and took a nasty blow from the practice saber to the hip. His opponent wounded he pressed the attack landing two more successive strike to chest and legs. His opponent made one vicious strike for his chest which webch easily avoided before landing a powerful strike to mans chest. His opponent collapsed, unconscious and mortally wounded.

"That was amazing!" The Bith exclaimed. "I thought we were dead."

He heard hurried footsteps and whirled about weapon ready only to see a man approaching. He had a lined face and graying hair, but he had a look of wisdom and confidence about him. Judging from the cut of his robes he was likely a master. A master of senior rank at that.

"You two alright?" He asked. "What happened here?"

"The jedi attacked us Master Orgus," the bith explained motioning to Webch's slain foe. "He was sick... confused."

Orgus Din gave a small sigh.

"Thank the force that you are both safe," he said before knelling down to examine the body. "This man's no Jedi- at least, not one of us."

"If he wasn't like us, what was he?" Webch asked suddenly very concerned.

"I'd call him sith," Orgus said wearily. "But the Sith Empire doesn't know where Tython is."

Then he paused, picked up the fallen man's light saber and rose to his feet.

"This light saber," he muttered. "There's something familiar about it. Strange."

Then he looked at Webch his eyes clearly showing his interest. "You held off all these attackers by yourself with only a practice saber? Impressive. "

"I deserve a decent weapon," Webch replied his eyes shifting quickly to the light saber that had just moments ago been used to attack him. "And my enemy doesn't need his anymore."

Orgus however shook his head, dashing Webch's hopes. "This weapon can help us discover who this man was. It's going to the Jedi Council."

Webch nodded disappointed.

"This battle is over," Orgus said. "But we don't want any more Flesh Raiders coming through here."

Then he stepped forward and as Webch and the bith watched he raised a hand. The whole cave began to shake before rocks began to fall and block up the passage. When he was done the passage was sealed shut, impassible.

"That should hold them back for now," Orgus said, brushing off his hands.

"I wanna learn how to do that," Webch said very impressed by the masters display.

"Spend a few decades practicing and you'll pick it up in no time," Orgus replied with a rueful smile.

"I am injured," the Bith said turning the conversation. "Master Orgus, are the training grounds safe for travel?"

"Not yet," Orgus replied. "I'll get you to a medcenter."

Then he returned his attention to Webch.

"You seem alright to travel alone. Report to the Jedi Council."

"I only just arrived on Tython," Webch said. "Where am I going?"

"Follow the path leading out of this valley," Orgus answered. "You'll find the Jedi temple through the mountain pass. See you there."

With that Orgus lead the Bith out of the cave leaving Webch alone. The Padawan glanced at the fallen bodies of his foes and grimaced. He had a bad feeling this was only the begining of something far worse.


	3. Chapter 2: New friends

**Ranger24: Just a heads up before this chapter starts I will be releasing a separate codex for this series tomorrow. Keep an eye out for it and the valuable information it contains.**

* * *

Chapter 2: New Friends

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_"I have seen the best and worst the Force has to offer. I have walked in the light and the dark. But even today I do not truly understand the Force." - Lord Revan, Head of the Revanchist Order._

If there was one thing positive that Webch could say about the Jedi Temple on Tython it was that it was impressive. The building had many graceful curvatures to it that were easy on the eyes while still produced an ample amount of space. The grounds outside the temple were incredibly crowded with masters and apprentices training. It gave the whole place a rather welcoming and and open feel.

At the same time however he knew it was no where near as large as the old temple on Coruscant which was still in ruins, contaminated by toxic chemicals, and structurally unsound. The number of Jedi present on the grounds wasn't because of the Jedi's numbers but because the temple they now called home was considerably smaller than the previous one and better accommodate the orders reduced strength.

Just as he was taking his first steps inside the temple however his holocom began beeping. He pulled it out and switched it on to produce the tiny image of a woman with dark hair, a hard but striking face, and wearing an intricate tunic. He knew immediately who he was being called by though she confirmed it quickly.

_"Padawan, I'm Satele Shan, leader of the Jedi Council here on Tython. I'd like to speak privately with you before we meet with the others."_

_Oh boy_, Webch thought. "Have I done something wrong?"

_"No."_

_Oh thank goodness._

"_And don't worry this will be an informal meeting,"_ she continued._ "Come to my meditation room in the temple. We'll talk there."_

Finding Master Satele's meditation room proved to be thankfully not as difficult as Webch had feared it would be given the initially confusing layout of the Temples interior. He managed to get directions from another Padawan and arrived at the room in question without further incident.

Master Satele herself was kneeling in center of the chamber with her eyes closed. A golden aura of visible force energy surrounded her, a comforting and beautiful sight. Webch suddenly felt it would be rude to speak first and waited for the Jedi Master to become aware of him. She looked up and aura faded away, back into her.

"Welcome Padawan," she said. "The temple is already buzzing with accounts of your heroism in the training grounds." She stood up, slightly shorter than he was. "Master Orgus told me you battled Flesh Raiders and a Force User armed with a lightsaber. That must have been a disturbing confrontation. Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry things ended in violence," he answered truthfully. "But I'm glad to be alive."

The truth was as far as Webch was concerned the duel shouldn't even have happened. His opponent had clearly been at best an amateur duelist who had gotten some crazy idea in his head that he could fight experienced Jedi. Still it wasn't as bad as his time aboard the Prosecutor.

"Taking a life affects the Living Force and the one who does the killing," Master Satele replied grimly. "This is why Jedi enter battles calmly, with reason. "Emotions such as fear and anger lead to the darkside."

"The man I fought wasn't angry or fearful," Webch said.

"Not on the surface perhaps," Satele answered. "As the Jedi code teaches us "There is no emotion, there is peace." Remember that when times are darkest."

Then she reached behind her back and drew out a folded training shirt much like the one Webch wore but slightly more padded.

"And take this," she said offering it to him. "The code is a source of strength, but some back up never hurts."

Damn straight, Webch thought.

"I'll see you soon in the council chambers in about an hour."

With that she knelt back down and resumed her meditation. Webch took this as his sign to leave.

He quickly found a small refresher room were he could change into the padded shirt in some privacy. It fit him quiet comfortably and as he stretched himself out discovered it did not inhibit his movement at all. He did wondered how Master Satele had known his shirt size though. The best answer he could come up with was simply the force.

With nearly an hour to run free about the temple he decided to take a walk around and get the layout of the building. He had learned years ago that simply knowing the terrain could be the difference between life and death. That brought up dark memories which he choose to push aside for the moment.

"There is no emotion brothers," a booming voice said from a room as he passed.

"There is peace," the class responded in surprisingly mature voices for students who were just learning the Jedi code.

Curious Webch stuck his head in through the door and saw possibly the largest man he had ever seen in his life standing at the head of a class of almost all men who were almost as tall. They all had either shaved heads or close cropped hair, all wore apprentice robes with a single leather shoulder pad marked with a heraldic crest. The teacher however kept Webch's focus.

The giant was clad in a massive suit of dark green power armor, over which he wore a white robe. At his side hung a full sized saber staff with ornate guards shaped like bird wings. The upper left side of his head was covered in a metal cap which judging from the bolts was the side effect of a particularly nasty head wound. He had heard of the Adeptus Astartes but had never actually meet one in person.

It suddenly dawned on Webch that they were all staring at him.

"Um... I was," he started to say.

"Ah good," the Space Marine Teacher said gruffly. "I was beginning to wonder when you would show up."

"What?"

"I am Senior Judicator Azaris of the Dark Angels chapter Padawan," the Space Marine said. "And you will be assisting my students in there test for the day."

"What?"

"Initiate Mekalus," Azaris barked.

One of the students, with a white horseshoe like symbol on his shoulder pad stepped forwards.

"You will be the first to practice himself against our "Dark Jedi" today," Azaris stated.

"Yes my lord," Mekalus replied drawing his own practice saber.

"What?"

Before Webch new what was happening he was being pulled into the center of a rapidly forming ring of Space Marine Initiates. Azaris stepped forward once more to speak.

"The objective of the duel is to force your opponent to yield students," Azaris ordered. "Our dark jedi wins if he lands a blow that would kill or incapacitate using a real lightsaber. Lethal damage will not be tolerated. Is that clear?"

"What?" Webch tried to say again but his statement was drowned out by Mekalus' loud, "Yes my lord!"

"You may begin!" Azaris proclaimed before stepping out of the ring.

Webch barely had time to draw and activate his practice saber before Mekalus was on him. The Space Marine initiate put his superior size and strength with an aggressive form of Djem So. In the small space of the dueling ring Webch lacked the room he need to preform his favored Ataru form. He was rapidly being forced back by the Space-Marine-to-be's superior strength and speed.

His mind raced as he struggled to figure out a plan, all the while Mekalus hammered his rather sloopy attempt at Soresu, a form Webch had always had problems with before, with a deft and practiced Djem so. A desperate plan formed in his head suddenly and in the midst of one of Mekalus powerful strikes he rolled under the Space Marines guard. He rose to his feet, whirled about and landed an resounding strike upon Mekalus' upper right arm.

"Match!" Azaris proclaimed.

"My Lord," Mekalus began to protest.

"If he had been using a real lightsaber the blow he just landed would if you were lucky merely cut off your right arm," Azaris said, silencing Mekalus. "If you were unlucky such a blow might have cut you in half. The match goes to the Padawan."

"What in Space is going on here?" A new voice demanded.

"Really Atton you could use more tact," another commented.

The Instates moved aside to allow Webch to see two elder Jedi masters standing in the doorway with another Padawan who looked absolutely petrified standing behind them. The first wore dusty and battered dark brown robes and had graying hair, the other wore lighter and more well kept robes and had silvering hair. Both had obviously been handsome at some point in their pasts but time had slowly wore away at them.

"Master Atton, Master Mical," Azaris said, clearly surprised. "Who is that with you?"

"Your dark Jedi stand in," the master with the battered robes replied. "Which begs the question who is that person your initiate was just trying to beat to death?"

"My name is Webch Anter," Webch said as all eyes fell on him. "I just arrived on Tython and I was having a look around."

"Oh you're the one who sent the Flesh Raiders packing," the master with the battered robes said. "Orgus is telling everyone about that mess."

"Atton could you please use the appropriate titles of my fellow Councilors?" the second master said sounding slightly irritated.

"Hey I knew the guy while he was still swinging around a practice saber," Atton replied clearly implying that his companion was Mical.

Azaris looked horribly embarrassed by the whole affair however.

"My apologies Padawan," he said. "I am sorry if this has caused you any distress."

"I'm fine," Webch replied. "Though that makes two duels I wasn't expecting to have today."

Mental note, he thought as Master's Atton and Mical removed him from the chamber and coaxed his terrified replacement into the room. Consider studying Makashi.

"Terribly sorry about that," Master Mical said. "The Judicators are usually perfectly friendly."

"I take it Judicators are Force Sensitive Space Marines?" Webch asked.

"Yep," Master Atton replied. "The Codex Asterix-"

"Astartes," Master Mical corrected.

"Shut up," Atton growled to Mical. "Anyways according to it, force sensitive Space Marine Initiates are supposed to be sent to the Jedi Temple for training every few months. Gives them time to train in the Force and in just about everything else they do like set people on fire."

"I thought you had gotten over that?" Mical asked.

"You never forget it when some two meter tall giant in power armor tries to roast the flesh off your bones," Atton replied. "Anyways they're supposed to be the Space Marines answer to hostile Force Users. They usually have to check in with us every now and then to make sure they aren't falling to the darkside."

"I get the feeling you don't exactly like the Space Marines," Webch observed.

Atton shrugged. "I lost a couple of friends and a Padawan during the first Great Galactic War."

"We all did Atton," Mical said. "But you are the only one who still holds a grudge with them."

"I don't hold a grudge," Atton replied. "I just don't like the idea of two meter tall guys in power armor with Lightsabers and Force powers."

Mical shook his head.

"And I sometimes wonder why you never made it on the Jedi Council?" He muttered.

"If I spent all day talking about problems there would be a lot more Sith out there right now," Atton shot back.

"Forgive me Masters but do you mind if I just leave you?" Webch asked.

Master Mical shook his head.

"Certainly not," he said. "I shall see you in Council Chamber when it is time for the meeting."

Webch left the two masters to their discussions. He knew both of them by reputation, no Jedi in the order didn't know them. Masters Atton and Mikal had been among the lost Jedi, a group of Force Sensitives former Grand Master Meetra Surik had gathered after the Jedi Civil War. They and others had helped her defeat the Sith Trimunative and rebuild the Jedi order.

Still Webch was certain he had enough close calls for one morning and simply went to find something to eat. He managed to kill the time effectively until it was time for the Council meeting.

When he arrived at the Council Chambers he found most of the Council seats filled by holograms of the masters who usually made use of them. Only Masters Satele, Orgus, Mical, and a female Togruta where there in person. The rest were transmitting from off world or simply empty seats.

However it was not the Jedi Masters who caught his immediate attention but the attractive woman standing beside the Togruta Master. She was dressed gray and blue robes which gave her chest a considerable definition, had red hair, blue eyes, and a thin but still noticeable scar under her left eye. Webch had seen plenty of pretty women in his time, even a few of almost disturbingly beautiful Eldar women, this one however was one of the few that made his stomach do a little back flip.

"I searched the temple archives," the Togruta Jedi said as though Webch was not in anyway a little late. "This Force user leading the Flesh Raiders never received Jedi training."

"Then the Sith have found us," the red haired woman said, an edge of worry in her tone. "Shouldn't we get ready for them?"

"Calm yourself Padawan," Master Orgus replied. "We can't be certain of anything yet."

"But we've all sensed a growing darkness," the Togruta insisted. "Perhaps its finally revealed itself."

Once again Webch realized everyone was looking at him now. He rallied quickly and spoke.

"The enemy I faced wanted to destroy the Jedi Order," he said. "Can't get much darker than that."

"Well that brightened up the room," the red haired woman said with a solid amount of sarcasm.

"Everyone," Master Orgus said clearly sensing the need for introductions had come. "This is Webch Anter, the Padawan who save our people in the training grounds."

Webch gave a small bow.

"This is Master Kiwiiks and her extremely vocal Padawan Kira," Orgus said motioning to the Togruta and the red haired woman. "The other masters are transmitting from distant worlds."

"Its unfortunate our numbers are scattered," Master Kiwiiks lamented.

"Indeed," Master Satele said. "The temples safety is unexpectedly threatened. The Flesh Raiders were disorganized primitives before today."

"I think you've been misinformed," Webch said dryly.

"We've clearly underestimated the natives," Orgus agreed. "The man leading the Flesh Raiders likely wasn't acting alone."

"Much of Tython remains unexplored, and we have few resources to spare," Satele said grimly.

_"You should recall most of the students to the temple grounds until further notice,"_ Master Windu said firmly. "_Only experienced members of the Order should be allowed to leave the grounds alone."_

_"That still will not stop the Flesh Raider attacks,"_ Master Obi-wan replied._ "Unless the corruption is rooted out at the source the attacks will likely continue."_

"I'll handle it," Orgus assured them. "With the help of my new Padawan."

This little tidbit of information caught Webch a tad off guard and he clearly wasn't the only one.

"Orgus," Master Kiwiiks began slowly. "You haven't taken a Padawan since Coruscant."

"The Force is strong in him. Stronger than I have seen in decades," Orgus replied confirming to Webch just who his master would be for his final trials.

"I can think of no finer Master to complete this Padawan's training," Master Satele said approvingly.

"_Agreed,"_ Master Yoda said speaking up for the first time. "_Train this Padawan, you will._"

"It will be a privilege," Webch said making another bow to Master Orgus. Truth be told he was most hoping to see more feats with the force from Master Ogrus like what he had seen in the Flesh Raider's tunnel.

"Don't get to excited," Orgus warned him. "You're in for some hard work."

_Oh boy_, Webch thought.

"You'll find supplies in my chambers downstairs. Go equip yourself," Orgus ordered. "I'll meet you there."

With one last bow, and a carefully hidden glance at Kira, Webch turned at left the Council Chambers.

He thankfully managed to find Orgus's chambers without any incidents like when he had been wandering about the temple. Inside the rather spartan room he found a storage unit. Inside he found a variety of items from medpacks to spare lightsaber parts to extra pairs of padded leggings. He pulled pads on, a little extra armor never hurt in his experience. He also took a few of the medpacks, just to be on the safe side.

He paused over the lightsaber parts for along while. There was almost everything here need to build a fully functional lightsaber, all that was missing were the crystal and proper housing for such a weapon. A lightsaber was definitely at the top of the things that he actually wanted in the world. He knew plenty of Padawan's and even a youngling or two who already had theirs. From a small pouch on his belt he pulled out a few items he had collected over the years, basic parts needed to build a lightsaber, he had most of them but still lacked a few.

He decided against it however. He wouldn't steal from Master Orgus.

Just as he was stepping away he heard Master Orgus come into the room.

"Blast those council meetings," the Jedi Master growled. "I'd die of old age before my colleagues ran out of things to say."

"I'd rather do something about problems than discuss them," Webch said sympathetically.

"Still there are times when talking is exactly whats needed," Orgus said in a manner that made Webch feel like he was already being tested. "This situation has come to you fast. Your braving dangers many Jedi never face."

Been there done that, Webch thought remembering the Prosecutor once more.

"I wouldn't blame you for having questions," Orgus continued. "This maybe the only time to ask them."

"I get the feeling you know more about this threat than you're telling me," Webch replied.

"I have," Orgus struggled for a moment for the right words before looking away. "A bad feeling about this. But that's all."

Sure doesn't sound like it, Webch thought to himself.

"When I know more I will tell you," Orgus assured him. "Trust me. "

"So what do we do then?" Webch asked.

"There's a group of Twi'lek pilgrims on Tython," Orgus explained. "They've been fighting the Flesh Raiders for months. The Imperium asked us to deny them aid, they settled here illegally. But frankly we need them."

"What do you mean illegally?" Webch asked.

"Tython is supposed to be top secret," Orgus explained. "It not on any astrogation charts except for those belonging to Jedi and important Imperial assets such as the Space Marines or high command. The Twi'leks found it by accident, the Inqusition wanted them all rounded up and silenced but the Jedi wouldn't stand for it."

Webch grimaced. He'd heard a rumor or to about Inquisitorial purges but this was the first time he had them confirmed.

"The Twi'leks have a settlement in the mountains," Orgus continued. "That's our next stop. We'll establish a base camp and speak with the Matriarch. Find out everything the Twi'leks know about Flesh Raiders.

"Anything you can tell me about their leader?" Webch asked.

"Word is she's not our biggest fan," Orgus answered grimly. "You'll have to convince her otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Webch asked suddenly confused.

Orgus sighed.

"I still have a few things to take care of here," he said. "I'll join you at the Twi'leks settlement soon though."

Webch grimaced.

"Got it."

"May the Force be with you."

* * *

On Calderis and Ork boy named Steelkicka stood just outside of one of the Humiez towns on the planet. It had been fun stompin the town but now da boss wanted them to pull guard duty. Where was the fun in that? Orks waz made for fightin an winnin, not muckin about like this.

"Aw dis guard duty stuff is naff," he partner Skullbusta groused. "We should be out stompin humiez again like we did to the town."

Steelkicka was about to reply when Skullbusta frowned.

"Wait did you hear sumthin?"

Half a second later Skullbusta's skull went and busted as round tore his thinkin box right open. Steelkicka would have laughed if he hadn't had a chunk of his chest cavity blown out as well by a second shot.

A couple of humiez dressed in light armor of red and white emerged from cover, one with a heavy cloak on his back and an intimidating beard on his chin.

"Cyrus to Armageddon," da bearded humie said in a raspy voice. "In position."

Steelkicka was about try and get up when he heard a whistling noise from above. He looked up just in time to be crushed to death by a dark Red Drop pod.

* * *

Force Commander Aramius emerged from the drop pod along with Tarkus and his squad. He ignored the Ork corpses underneath the drop pod and focused on Scout Sergeant Cyrus and his squad. Cyrus had trained a good deal of the Blood Ravens, even back when they had been part of the Thousand Sons Legion.

The mission was to recapture a hamlet, located along a vital supply route for the ground forces. It had fallen to the Orks despite a frantic defense by the Blood Ravens. Now they had to take it back and avenge their fallen brothers.

That was when Captain Thule came in over the vox.

"Space Marines, heartening news," he began. "Avitus, the squad leader who defended the hamlet is still alive. The Orks incapacitated him but apparently could not finish the job."

Cyrus gave a derisive snort.

"Avitus is to stubborn to die," he growled.

"So it would seem Cyrus," Captain Thule replied what sounded like a small chuckle. "An Ork guard position stands between you and Sergeant Avitus. Approach with stealth and eliminate the Greenskins."

"Understood," Cyrus replied simply.

"Take point Scout Sergeant," Aramius ordered. "We'll follow behind."

Cyrus gave him a simple nod before motioning for his Scouts to follow him. Cyrus and his scouts made the push down the hamlet relatively easy, using well placed shots to take out key members of the Ork Patrols, creating openings for Aramius and Tarkus to gun them down. IT wasn't long before they reached the guard post Thule had mentioned to them.

Even with his enhanced senses of sight and hearing Aramius could not see the Scout Sergeant advance upon the guard tower, plant an explosive charge on it, and then return to them completely unscathed. It had all happened so quickly it was as if Cyrus had never even left his side. A moment later the explosive detonated and collapsed the guard tower to the alarmed cries of its Ork occupants who were now being crushed to death by their flimsy construction.

"Ork guards eliminated," Cyrus stated simply.

"Excellent work Cyrus," Captain Thule replied over the vox. "Avitus should be nearby, revive him so he may join your attack."

"Understood," Aramius replied before moving into the hamlet followed closely by Trakus and Cyrus' squads.

They found Avitus, a mountain of a Space marine collapsed against the side of a tree. Aramius applied a stimulant to the unconscious marine who within a moment snapped awake. Aramius found himself staring down the many barrels of a heavy bolter for a moment before Avitus realized who had found him.

"Damn Orks found another pass through the hills," the Sergeant began without preamble.

"We will make them pay for this Avitus," Aramius replied. "I swear it."

"There is a relay beacon nearby," Captain Thule reported. "Secure it and we will be able to reinforce your squads commander."

Finding the beacon took even less time than finding Avitus. It took a moment however to preform the necessary rites to restore power to the beacon however.

"Reinforcements inbound," Captain Thule stated.

A moment later another drop came down and disgorged a full squad of Devastator Marines for Avitus to assume command of.

"Now push into the hamlet and eliminate those Orks commander," Thule ordered.

"By your word Captain Thule," Aramius replied before waving his chainsword towards the hamlet. "Onwards brothers! For the Emperor!"

* * *

Webch's hike to the Twi'lek settlement went smoothly enough for his liking. Tython was quiet beautiful when you weren't fighting for your life against hostile natives and crazed dark jedi. He almost forgot that he was on an important mission.

Then he reached the settlement and his mood changed quickly. Kalikori village as the settlement was called was a huddled mass of battered prefabricated structures and a few huts made of local materials. The residents gave him weary or in some cases angry looks but did not say anything. They were clearly poor and had a harsh time surviving here.

He felt pity grow in his chest for the Twi'leks. Even if they had come here illegally it wasn't right to leave them to fend for themselves. He knew all to well what that was like.

He shook his head, he couldn't afford to think about that right now. Every time he thought about the _Prosecuter_ he went to a dark place.

He got directions to the Matriarchs home from one of the locals. It was the largest building in the settlement but not by much. In fact the place looked like at had been built out of cargo containers.

Inside he found three Twi'leks, two females and one male, waiting. Clearly Master Orgus or someone had sent word ahead of him to expect his coming. The male was orange skinned and had a sturdy build, clearly a militia leader or something. Both of the females were green skinned and by the looks of it were mother and daughter. Webch gave the elder one, whom he assumed was the matriarch a small bow.

"Greeting Matriarch," he began. "I am Padawan Webch Anter, Master Orgus Din has sent me to help you fight the Flesh Raiders."

The Matriarch frowned and set her hands on her hips.

_So much for a good first impression,_ Webch thought.

"So the Jedi finally deign to recognize my peoples suffering? How Noble," she said critically. "Nothing to do with the attack on your training grounds, I'm sure."

"We didn't realize how great a threat the Flesh Raiders had become," Webch answered trying to keep from antagonizing the woman.

"And now you seek help from the people you once ignored," the Matriarch replied with an air of condemnation.

Webch was about to respond but the Matriarch clasped her hands behind her back.

"My scouts have tracked the Flesh Raiders for months," she said taking on a more business like tone. "Watched them grow in strength. I will share with you what we've discovered but only if you agree to protect my people. We..."

Then she paused putting a hand to her fore head and swaying dangerously on the spot as if hit by a sudden fever.

"We suffer," she managed to force out.

"Mother," the younger Twi'lek said softly. "You need rest. Let me carry this burden for you."

"The Matriarch appears sick," Webch said partially hoping to win some good faith and partially out of legitimate concern. "Does she need a doctor?"

"Thank you," the younger Twi'lek replied. "But we have our own healers."

"This is my daughter, Ranna Tao'ven," the Matriarch said apparently realizing she needed to give introductions. "She and scout Chief Moorint here will speak for me."

The male Twi'lek, Moorint gave a respectful nod to Webch.

"I must attend to," she suddenly began to suffer the same signs from before; uneasy balance, migraine or fever, and sudden weakness. "Other matters..."

Ranna took the Matriarch by the arm and lead her away. It struck Webch that the Matriarch likely wasn't that old and the illness she had probably had a real cure. These Twi'leks were thus likely Purists, people of various races who refused to allow certain modifications made to them such as prebirth gene therapy, rejuvenation treatments, physical augmentation, and other such procedures. He had no idea he would be dealing with such a group.

Scout Chief Moorint let out a small sigh as the pair vanished from sight into some back room of the structure. He gave Webch a tired look that made him appear to be far older than he actually was.

"Personally, I don't care why you've come-as long you destroy the Flesh Raiders." His face hardened suddenly with anger. "Ever since they got their new weapons and gear, they hunt us like animals."

"Trust me," Webch replied. "I know the feeling."

"The enemy has a camp in the Valley nearby," Moorint said with a nod. "My scouts say the Flesh Raiders store their weapons and other tech in a cave."

"Then I'll take it out," Webch replied. "Without their weapons the Flesh Raiders shouldn't be much of a threat."

"We need to strike fear into the Flesh Raiders," Moorint agreed. "Sabotage their weapons. Fix it so they blow up in their ugly faces."

"How would we do that?" Ranna said having returned to the main room.

"The Technology is standard Imperial design," Moorint replied. "By the looks of things some are older. We could overload the power circuits and plasma coils." He then turned to the workbench he had been leaning against and motioned for them to come closer. "I'll show you."

Webch and Ranna crowded round Moorint as pulled out a battered old blaster and ejected the power cell. "We just need to eject the power cells," he began before using a pair of wire cutters to tamper with some of the internals. "Cross a few wires..." Then he slapped the power cell back into place. "And boom, this blaster is now a low grade frag bomb."

"Clever," Webch said stepping away from the now explosive weapon.

"Sabotage would thin the Flesh Raider numbers and eliminate their technological advantage," Moorint concluded.

"If you brought that technology here we could defend ourselves with those weapons," Ranna said quickly.

"Either one of those plans could work," Webch replied with a nod. "I'll see what I can do when if find them."

"My people aren't afraid to fight for their homes," Ranna said firmly. "We just lack the means."

"This debate is pointless unless you can get inside that cave," Moorint said. "You'll need one of the leaders access keys."

"Find the Flesh Raider Technology and do what you think is best," Ranna continued. "Good luck Master Jedi."

Webch nodded and then headed back out into the main village proper. Word seemed to quickly get around to the people that he would be heading up to the Flesh Raider camp. They crowded around him begging him to find their loved ones or avenge a fallen family member. Webch did his best to keep them from becoming a riot but remembering everything they wanted him to do quickly became confusing.

_I need a datapad for note taking,_ Webch thought dismally as he finally broke free of the crowds and made his way to the Flesh Raider's camp.

It wasn't long until he reached and once more found himself up to his arm pits in vicious Flesh Raiders. He carved his way through the camp trying to keep the Flesh Raiders dis-unified and uncoordinated. It worked well enough for him to fight his way to the cave entrance. He was hoping this whole Flesh Raiders hiding in caves thing wasn't going to be that common of an occurrence.

He fought his way deeper into the cave until he at last came upon a massive metal barricade that separated the cave into two. Before its doors was the largest Flesh Raider he had yet seen, clearly a leader of some sort. More importantly this Flesh Raider had a practice saber, a trophy he had no doubt won from a hapless victim.

The Flesh Raider leader roared a challenge at him, bounding forward with his practice saber crackling to life. Webch drew in on himself, reaching for the Force. Then he jumped into the air, the Force magnifying his athletic abilities so that he came down upon the Flesh Raider with a powerful falling strike.

The blow stunned Flesh Raider allowing Webch to strike him again and again without repercussions for some time. The Flesh Raider recovered eventually and made a two handed power slash at Webch using what appeared to be an incredibly sloppy attempt at Djem So. Webch rolled out the way of the strike and then struck the Flesh Raider behind the knees severing critical tendons.

The Flesh Raider howled in fury and agony for a moment before Webch finished the creature with blow to the neck.

After catching his breath Webch rifled through the slain Flesh Raiders belonging and found what appeared to be a battered security key. He turned back to the Barricade and quickly found the Key reader. A door, large enough for a Flesh Raider to squeeze through creaked open and Webch slipped on through.

The room beyond was small, the only things of note were a batter utility droid which appeared to be deactivated and a large locker. Guessing the locker would be where the Flesh Raiders kept their equipment Webch forced the door open. Inside was a confused pile of old blaster pistols, enough for a platoon sized force to be equipped. He considered his options for a moment.

He could sabotage the weapons as Moorint had suggested, take out a few Flesh Raiders and save himself the trouble of hauling all of these things back. Or he could take the weapons back to the Twi'leks and let them use them to keep the Flesh Raiders at bay. Really it was a no brainer.

"Once they have all this," he muttered to himself. "The Twi'leks can defend themselves..."

As he gathered up the weapons however it became clear to him that transporting all of these blasters would be problematic. His small pack only had room for a few of the weapons, already being crowded with vital supplies. He kicked himself for not perhaps handing some of it over to the villagers before he had left.

Then he heard a whistling from behind him which he quickly recognized as droid binary. He turned to see the Utility droid was in fact active and whistling up a storm. Webch's binary was a little rusty but he could still understand the droid.

"T7 = glad to see Jedi! / T7 = captured by Flesh Raiders + needs rescuing."

Webch smiled an idea forming in his head.

"Don't worry little guy," he said. "I'll get you out of here."

"Jedi = T7's hero. T7 = Jedi reconnaissance. / Mission Parameters = scout wilderness + identify hazards. T7's retraining bolt + faulty + malfunctioning / T7's sensors + unable to detect Flesh Raider Ambush."

"What made the Flesh Raiders bring you back here?" Webch asked.

"Flesh Raiders + interested in technology / T7 + advanced utility droid + very valuable. T7 + simulated deactivation + used spy camera / T7 + recorded Flesh Raider allies."

"Really?"

The droid responded by using its projector to display three miniature figures. One was a Flesh Raider while another wore a hooded robe but the third was the same crazed Force User Webch had fought earlier.

_"Teach our soldiers to use these weapons,"_ the hooded figure ordered, clearly a male by the voice. "_Train them on the Twi'lek invaders."_

_"When will we strike against the Jedi?"_

"_Patience, Calef,_" the hooded figure replied. "_The Jedi will fall when our army reaches full strength._"

The figures vanished as T7 turned off his projector.

"T7 recording = useful / Jedi + takes T7 to safety + removes restraining bolt."

Webch nodded.

"Alright," he said but I'm going to need you to do something for me..."


	4. Chapter 3: Observations and plots

Chapter 3: Observations and plots

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_""Knowledge is power. Guard it well." - Blood Ravens Chapter Battle cry._

The silence that surrounded Revan as he worked was welcome. It allowed him to focus on his tasks whilst still letting his mind dip into the unlimited pool of strength that was the living Force. His work at the moment however required a great deal of his focus.

He sat in his private meditation chamber aboard his flagship the assault ship_ Redeemer_, a massive vessel that could easily split a Venator-class Heavy Destroyer with its shields alone. The chamber itself allowed him full access to his information networks while still granting him the privacy he required for mediation. His hands danced across holo graphic displays, absorbing in moments massive amounts of information.

Separatist forces on Ord Mantell were nearing the breaking point, no surprise. The CIS had not bothered to send much support to Ord Mantell and it was showing. The war there was just barely a side affair in the grand scheme of things.

His agents on Dromund Kaas had been forced to move their camp again, he had warned them that pretending to be a cult would simply attract attention. Still they had given him valuable intelligence from within the Sith Military. Preserving them was vital.

The Iron Hands were engaging Separatist Forces on the Forge World of Agripinaa. A small symbol attached to the message informed him of far more important details behind the mission. The red, face like symbol made up of hard lines ensured that he would be keeping a close eye on the situation.

Palpatine was sending Master Obi-wan Kenobi and the seventh fleet after a reported sighting of General Grievous on Nelvaan. Kenobi would no doubt be taking Anakin Skywalker with him. Something about that made Revan uneasy, not least of which was that his own agents could not confirm the sighting.

Palpatine had been making power plays recently, assuming more and more power. The previous year he had manage to assume all legislative authority within the Imperial Senate, effectively side lining all of the senators. Revan debated whether or not to send his trusty assassination Droid HK-47 to more closely observe and if need be assassinate Palpatine.

Then there was Skywalker, the Jedi orders rising star. Few within the order doubt that he would make master within the next few years and many for saw an eventual council seat for him. Revan however knew Skywalker's faults however, namely his strictly illegal marriage to the Imperial Senator from Naboo. That went without mentioning the twin children she had both of whom were already showing signs of force sensitivity. Revan had considered offering Skywalker a place within the Revanchists for a time but new better. He was to unpredictable, to dangerous, and to unstable to be offered a place in the Revanchists.

A quick check on Tython alerted him to a situation involving Flesh Raiders and Rogue Force users. He frowned to himself, definitely not what the thinly spread Jedi Order needed. His agent in the Temple had sent him all relevant data regarding the situation but it was a paltry amount. He cursed the Jedi and their hubris for not taking precautions. It seemed no matter what one did the order would eventually revert back to being the same stuffy conservatives like Atris and Vrook who mucked it all up again.

Reports from the front-lines against a vast array of threats floated passed. Casualty figures, status reports, video images of combat zones, requisition forms. In a place or two he authorized more rapid requisitions of supplies and troops to more critical areas. He knew it would gall Janarus and countless other commanders to know that he could bypass their authority in such a way but he cared not. If it kept the Imperium safe another day then let them hate him.

He paused over reports from subsector Aurelia. Irregular astronomica reports, an Ork Wagh that had diverted from Armageddon to sack a Space Marine Chapter recruiting worlds, tactics far to precise for a small Wagh, all of it spoke of another hand at work. The situation would require further observation, Astartes were far to valuable for a Chapter to lose all of its recruiting worlds.

Data from outside the Imperium came next. Unusual activity in the Attican Traverse, possibly signs of another large pirate assault upon the Systems Alliance. It didn't seem quiet right to Revan, it was to soon. The Terminus Pirates had lost a number of ships during the Skyllian Blitz and later lost a major base on Torfan.

One item of note caught his eye, reports of a dig site on the Alliance colony of Eden Prime. They had found a Prothean Beacon, a piece of technology that could easily push the Alliance's Technology forward by decades. A factor that if the Imperium wanted the Alliance to join them they could not allow. He placed an order through back channels for some Mercenaries to attack the dig site and then take the beacon to a secure drop off point where his agents would collect it.

Garza's attempts to gather more intelligence about the the new Alliance warship however were proving most successful. The new ship, the SSV _Normandy_, had just completed construction with co development team of Humans and Turians. More of note was its advanced stealth systems. Revan was impressed by specifications, it made even the Inquisition's most advanced stealth ships look like a clown in a jungle by comparison to the _Normandy_.

As for getting an agent aboard the ship while he successfully gained access to the_ Normandy's _crew roster it was already full up. Most unusual for a ship fresh out of the shipyards. More importantly he had to applaud the Alliances choices for the crew. If he had been in there shoes he would likely have made the same choices, namely Captain David Anderson.

A quick glance at intel regarding Anderson's new executive officer and it all clicked into place for Revan. Lieutenant Commander John Shepard, born on Gaia, age 29. A natural survivor if Revan had ever seen one judging from the Commander's service record. If he had been born in the Imperium he likely would have been inducted into the Astartes or the Spartan Program.

Also attached to the crew was Staff Lieutenant Jane Shepard, the Lieutenant Commander's younger sister. She was listed as a powerful biotic and was considered something of a war hero due to actions preformed during the Skyllian Bltiz. Reportedly she had held off a platoon of pirates on Elysium for a considerable length of time without relief. What was left out of the news reports and propaganda was that she had been assisted by a squad of local militia, two turians who were visiting the planet, and a single Krogan Mercenary.

It didn't take a genius to put two and two together for Revan to understand just what the Alliance was up to. They planned to use the _Normandy _to secretly move the Prothean Beacon so it could be studied. That didn't quiet explain why a Council Spectre, Nihlus Kryik, was also with the crew. Something about that rubbed Revan the wrong way. He called up additional data but alas the Spectre's files were well classified and an off sight hack could spark an intergalactic incident. Exactly what the Imperium didn't need.

He sighed and leaned back against one of the walls of the mediation chamber. Some times he wondered if he should just retire and allow his war weary body to rest somewhere sunny with his wife Bastila. A look at his feeds however dissuaded him as it always did. The Imperium need him to much for him to allow for even a moments rest.

Suddenly an alert popped up onto his screen. He shifted himself back up and read it through, his heart rate quickening. Communications with his agents in subsector Aurelia had just been lost. All of them had gone dark. He scowled and quickly ordered a single Hammerhead-class cruiser to investigate the matter. To most it would have seemed like overkill but Revan had learned long ago to trust his instincts and right now all of them were screaming at him to investigate the situation more closely.

Another part simply wanted to pray that he was wrong, in spite of all the mounting evidence.

* * *

Webch's return with T7 to Kalikori village went somewhat more smoothly than the trip into the cave had. On the plus side all of the Flesh Raiders had been killed. On the down side both he and T7 were weighed down by the massive amount of weapons they had stolen from the Flesh Raiders. They dropped a packaged blaster or two as the walked forcing them to go back and recover them. Overall it was slow going.

As they walked into the Matriarch's home however the sound of an angry and much a grieved voice could be heard.

"She died in my arms!" A man said half shouting half sobbing. "You should have seen what those filth did to her!"

"I'm sorry Saylew," he heard Ranna reply. "We all share your loss."

He rounded a corner to see Ranna, Master Orgus, and Moorint talking to a blue skinned male twi'lek who to say the least was mad with grief.

"For everyone of us the Flesh Raiders butcher we should kill ten! No, a hundred!"

"Will that restore your loved one to life?" Orgus asked, almost coldly.

"Don't lecture me Jedi," the twi'lek, Saylew snapped. "My wife is dead! Our people, slaughtered! Where were you then?"

"Sorry to interrupt," Webch said drawing everyone's attention. He set his pack on the ground and opened it up to reveal the packaged blasters. "But I took all the Flesh Raiders weapons so you can defend yourselves."

"Finally," Saylew hissed. "Someone who understands."

_'More than you know,'_ Webch thought to himself.

"Give me those weapons," Saylew said cold rage dripping from his voice. "We'll hunt down the Flesh Raiders. We'll have retribution."

Webch shook his head in annoyance. He'd seen this sort of behavior while serving with the fleet and it always led to trouble.

"You're upset," he said. "The last thing you need is a blaster. Let me handle the Flesh Raiders."

It went unsaid that Saylew was more than likely just going to get himself killed if he charged out on his own like he seemed to want to.

"Your wife wouldn't want you to die for revenge," Ranna added restating Webch's private thoughts in a more polite fashion. "I promise we'll stop these attacks."

With a final glare at them all Saylew allowed Moorint and Ranna to show him out. Master Orgus gave Webch a nod of approval.

"Well done Padawan," he said. "He may not feel better, but at least he'll stay out of trouble."

"Here's hoping," Webch replied.

Orgus gave another nod.

"People wonder why the Jedi are forbidden to marry or have families," he continued in a somber tone. "They don't see how attachments always lead to suffering. Passionate emotions can destroy a person- and Jedi destroyed by passion become something terrible."

Webch wasn't entirely sure about that. The logic made some sense but at the same time it felt cold and cruel. Before he could give voice to his thoughts however T7 deposited his cargo of Blasters and began speaking in his whistling binary.

"T7 + salutes Jedi Master Orgus Din / T7 reconnaissance report = ready for delivery."

"Teeseven was captured by the Flesh Raiders," Webch explained quickly. "You'll want to see the holorecording he made."

Master Orgus nodded.

"While I deal with the droid you talk to Ranna," he ordered. "I think her people are ready to help us, thanks to you."

"Got it," Webch replied before turning back to Ranna who was sorting through the stolen weapons. He gave T7 a small friendly pat on the head before walking over to her. He heard Master Orgus begin having T7 play back the recording. As he approached Ranna she stood up looking a bit more hopeful.

"With the weapons and technology you brought from the Flesh Raiders, my people can defend themselves." She said appreciatively. "You risked your life to help us. My people haven't had a champion for some time."

"All in a days work," he said putting on his most convincing wise Jedi tone of voice. "Jedi have a duty to protect and defend others."

"And we promised to share our knowledge in return of that duty," she replied as Moorint approached looking still rather grim but at least a tad more confident.

"Scouts report the Flesh Raiders forces are gathering in strength," he reported. "They already control the mountains around us and even now they're invading the ruins at Kaleth. My men spotted them at the remains of an ancient shrine." As he spoke Master Orgus walked over to join them, his face revealing nothing of his mood. "Close to your Jedi Temple."

"What's Kaleth?" Webch asked.

"Kaleth was a great city of Force users," Orgus explained. "Its ruins hold powers we still don't understand."

"The Flesh Raider's are looking for something there," Moorint said an edge of realization taking hold of his voice.

"We can't let them find it," Orgus said firmly before turning to Webch. "Drive back those Flesh Raiders immediately. I have to take this droid back to the Council. "

"Me against an army of Flesh Raiders," Webch said with a small sigh. "Fun."

Then Webch noted brief moment of hesitation in Orgus face before the Jedi Master put a hand to his chin as if thinking hard.

"That hooded figure from the holo," he began. "I know his voice. The situation is worse than I thought."

Before Webch could ask him about the hooded figure Orgus returned to his brusk commanding tone.

"Do whatever it takes to push the Flesh Raiders out of Kaleth," he ordered. "I'll send you reinforcements as soon as possible."

"You aren't going to tell me whats happening?"

"Take too long," Orgus replied. "Just be aware that Kaleth is a place of great danger."

'_Lovely,' _Webch thought to himself.

"If you see that hooded figure from the holo, do not engage him," Orgus added. "Now get going."

With nothing else for it Webch walked out of the house built of cargo modules and began the long trek towards Kaleth.

* * *

Force Commander Aramius kept his face impassive as Apothecary Gordian worked to remove the fragments of both an Ork Slugga round and shards of his damaged chest plate which had logged themselves into his chest. The wound was not critical, nor was the damage to his armor which Tech Marine Martellus was now repairing. That said if left untreated the injury could impair his effectiveness in combat.

He had taken the wound fighting an Ork leader known as Skykilla

"Will this take much longer?" He asked. "There are still many Orks to kill and I will not sit by while my brothers shoulder the whole of the burden."

"Scans indicate only a few more fragments remain in your system," Gordian replied as he pulled yet another nail sized fragment from Aramius' chest. "This should not take long."

Sergeant Avitus, who was standing beside a the main exit from the sick bay with Tarkus and Cyrus gave a derisive snort.

"Maybe next time you should take better care while advancing commander," he said darkly. "A few inches higher and you would have lost a heart."

"A few inches to right and it would have missed like all of the rest," Aramius replied as Gordian removed another fragment. "Shouldn't you be preparing your squad for our next deployment Sergeant?"

Avitus scowled, but that was nothing new. Scowling seemed to be the only expression Avitus' face could form.

"All Squads have been refitted and rearmed Commander," Tarkus reported cutting Avitus off before an argument could begin. "We only wait on yourself and orders from Captian Thule to deploy."

Aramius nodded as Gordian removed the last fragment from his chest. The Apothecary gave his wound one last scan before applying a dressing that would hold until Aramius' Larraman's Organ could patch the wound naturally. Or at least as naturally as Space Marines got.

As Aramius pushed himself off the table the ship board vox came to life.

_"Commander," _Martellus stated. _"Captain Thule has another mission briefing ready for you."_

"Patch him through to the sick bay," Aramius ordered.

A moment later Captain Thule's voice came over the ships local vox.

_"Commander, I would first like to congratulate you on eliminating Skykilla and his forces_," the Captain stated. _"We will find who is strengthening this Ork Horde yet. I am deploying a team to search the Ork remains for clues as to who is agitating them."_

Aramius frowned at this. The situation was getting worse with each passing hour on Calderis. Despite the Blood Ravens best efforts the Orks were still hitting critical targets, spreading the Marines and Planetary Defense Forces thin. It had become apparent that someone had to be feeding the Orks information, the beasts weren't utterly stupid but the attacks were simply to precise for a run of the mill WAAGH! to be doing this much damage.

"Have we received any additional word from the neighboring sector Captain?" Tarkus asked.

_"No we have lost all contact with them," _Thule replied.

"What could possibly take out the communications network of an entire sector in a few days?" Tarkus wondered.

"A good question sergeant," Aramius agreed.

"_We will have to investigate," _ Thule replied. _"But the defense of Calderis must come first."_

Aramius nodded in agreement.

"_Commander, the Orks have struck another valuable target," _the Captain reported in his low growl. _"A powerful Ork Chieftain named Gutrencha is leading the assault. But someone must have pointed him at this target, likely without his even knowing it."_

"What are our orders Captain?" He asked.

_"You will take you squads and eliminate Gutrencha before he can do anymore damage," _Thule answered. _"And keep on the look out for clues as to who maybe manipulating."_

"Understood my lord," Aramius replied.

"_Good hunting commander,"_ Thule stated. "_Captain Thule out."_

Aramius gave his Sergeants a nod, wordlessly conveying his orders to them. Cyrus and Tarkus obeyed without question while Avitus gave his usual scowl before leaving the sick bay. They were headed for the Drop Pod boarding chamber.

Aramius meanwhile had another concern.

"Martellus what is the status on my armor?" He asked.

_"Primary repair rites completed_," the Tech marine answered. "_Your armor is ready for usage and its machine spirit hungers to bring the Emperor's judgement down upon the Orks."_

Aramius nodded to himself.

"I'll be right there," he said.

As he stepped out of the sick bay his mind turned itself back to thoughts of war, glory, and battle.

* * *

Webch's slog through Kaleth had to be the most inglorious, undignified, and frustrating experience in the entire galaxy. Basically the story of his life since he had been a small child really. He had found plenty of Flesh Raiders in the ruins, along with countless ancient training droids who had decided to try and carve him open with vibroswords.

He seriously wished he had been allowed to bring T7 with him as it probably would have smoothed things along very quickly. Not that he took pleasure in the fighting and killing but getting it over with faster would have been welcoming. This of course left him wondering where his promised back up was.

He found a path crawling with Flesh Raiders which he hoped would lead him to their main camp. As he ascended up the slopes he caught sight of a small shrine ahead being guarded by the largest Flesh Raider he had yet seen, an ugly gray brown monster.

As he approached the Flesh Raider turned to face him. Its mouth filled with its jagged teeth opened in what Webch took to be a sneer.

"Jeehd-ay," it said in a voice more like a hiss than anything else.

Webch however was taken a back.

"Did you just call me Jedi?" He asked incredulous.

The Flesh Raider chuckled in response, a sinister, cruel, and evil thing. Then the creature thrust out its arms at him with open palms.

The Force push, for that was clearly what it was knocked Webch off his feet and threw him back several yards to land flat on his back in the grass and dirt. He felt a rock jabbing into his back and the breath had been knocked out of him. That wasn't the worst of it however.

As he jumped back onto his feet four more Flesh Raiders emerged from their hiding places with vibroswords and training sabers in hand. With a raw throated roar from the large gray leader they charged towards him eyes filled with malice and savage delight. Webch drew his practice saber and ignited it.

His chosen Ataru form had a dangerous flaw in it, fighting multiple targets at once. Most Ataru practitioners knew in such situations they had only two options. They could retreat and try to pick their opponents off, or they could charge in and try to thin them out quickly.

Webch chose the later of the two.

Using the Force to enhance his abilities he jumped towards the charging creatures. His first blow caught the closest one in the face, slicing the creatures head in two. He moved quickly to the next, avoiding its attack before taking off its legs with single stroke. The third he rolled behind before laying open its back with a slash. The fourth swung at him with a wild swing which he parried. He then got under the Flesh Raiders guard and sliced into the creatures belly.

The large gray Flesh Raider did not seem put out by the deaths of its fellows. Indeed the creature was possibly even more blood thirsty than before. It swung three savage strikes at him with a practice saber which Webch blocked. The Flesh Raider was employing a primitive and sloppy variant of Djem So, trying to pressure him and break his defenses.

For Webch however the tide turned quickly as he dove under a fourth strike, gaining critical room to maneuver. In close quarters Djem So almost always beat out against Ataru which required a considerable amount of room to function properly, even Webch's variant on the form could not wholly solve the problem.

In the open however the tables were in theory turned. Djem So and its defensive twin Shien were notoriously slow styles, easily tiring a practitioner out during prolonged fights with its heavy swings. Ataru also could wear out a fighter but with the proper freedom of movement it would give him an advantage.

Webch pressed the advantage, striking fast and hard before slipping away before his opponent could counter. He thought he could hear the sounds of another fight nearby but he ignored that focusing on the battle at hand, wearing down his foe with lightning quick strikes. Several of his attacks found their mark but none very serious, only glancing hits. The Flesh Raider seemed to be utterly oblivious to pain, rushing at him again and again only for Webch to slip away and waste the creatures energy.

On one such charge however Webch realized he had made a grave error . He'd allowed himself to be backed up against a cliff face with a large boulder on one side and a tall tree on the other. The Flesh Raider seemed to be aware of his predicament and brought its blade to its side to deal the lethal blow. Just as it was about to swing however Webch found a way out.

He leaped over the Flesh Raider, somersaulted in the air, landed behind the creature, turned, and swung. His practice saber sliced through meat and bone almost bisecting the Flesh Raider, save for some fat and muscle over its belly. With a disturbing gurgling noise it collapsed to its knees and then slumped against the cliff face dead.

Panting heavily Webch deactivated his weapon and slumped to the ground. Beads of sweat ran down his face and back almost obscuring his vision. He wiped the fluid away with his sleeve and took the rest of brief respite to catch his breath. His body ached from exertion and he wondered how long it had been since he had a fight as difficult as that.

He heard foot steps pounding up the trail behind him and he pushed himself up ready for more trouble.

Then he saw Master Kiwiiks and her striking padawan Kira hurrying over to him. They had clearly fought their way up to the shrine as he had and by the amount of sweat they were covered in the had gotten a considerable work out. Not that Kira didn't look pretty all sweaty like that.

'_Mind out of the gutter_,' he told himself.

"Master Orgus sent us," Master Kiwiiks said clearly relieved he had survived. "We came as quickly as we could."

"One of the Flesh Raider's I just fought called me Jedi," he said his breath still a little labored. "He could use the force."

"That's troubling," Kiwiiks replied grimly. "If the Flesh Raiders are learning the ways of the Force, it won't be on the side of light."

"You sure made short work of this bunch," Kira quipped dryly. "We only ran into a few of the Flesh Raiders on the way up here. You ever leave survivors?"

"I didn't come here hoping to kill someone," Webch answered grimly.

Kira's face fell.

"Hey I didn't mean anything," she said apologetically. "Mouth gets a head of my brains."

"Which of the Flesh Raider used the Force on you?" Master Kiwiiks asked.

Webch pointed to his fallen opponent slumped against the cliff face. Kiwiiks slipped past him to examine the corpse of the fallen Force using Flesh Raider.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've been in a serious battle?" Kira asked. "Not to pry but I'm a little curious."

"I spent most of my apprentice ship shuffling between Imperial warships and garrisons," Webch explained. "I've spent more time around Imperial guard troopers than I have around other Jedi."

"Well that sounds fun," she replied.

"Most of the time," Webch agreed. "I did see some combat but I was usually kept away from the front lines, my masters didn't want an apprentice with a practice saber wandering into the combat zone."

"That sounds familiar," Kira said giving Master Kiwiiks a nod.

"What about you?" Webch asked.

Before Kira could reply however Master Kiwiiks returned to them hold a small cube covered in green lines of data.

"The Flesh Raider was carrying a holocron," she said grimly. "A repository of knowledge created by a Force User. Thousands of years old by the looks of it."

"That doesn't sound good," Webch muttered.

"Master Orgus was right," Kiwiiks stated. "These natives are more advanced than we realized. They're learning how to fight us."

"Master Orgus seemed to think he knows who's behind it," Webch replied.

"I gathered as much," Kiwiiks assured him. "He had no time to explain before sending us here."

Then she gave a small sigh.

"I wish we could stay, see this through. But Master Yoda has ordered us to Coruscant on a special mission."

"What mission?" Webch asked curious.

"All those bad feelings the Councils been having?" Kira said darkly. "He thinks the old Republic Capital is the source."

"I'm sorry to have to leave you," Kiwiiks said clearly trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of Coruscant. "But the danger has passed." She then drew forth several small sensor units from her utility belt and offered them to Webch. "These surveillance monitors will keep watch on Kaleth."

Webch accepted them and shove them into a side pocket of his pack.

"Place them around the ruins," Kiwiiks said motioning with her hand to ruins on the ledge and below. "The temple can then monitor any future incursions by our enemies."

Webch nodded in agreement. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find their leader."

"May the Force be with you Padawan," Kiwiiks said before she a Kira gave him small bows which he returned. Then the turned and left back down the path they had come up.

Webch gave a small sigh as soon as they were out of sight before setting to work. Setting the sensor devices up in a proper pattern was the simple part, he had done similar jobs during his time with the Imperial guard. The hard part was that despite all the Flesh Raiders being dead he still had to contend with the armies of crazed training droids.

It was difficult work, fending off hoards of malfunctioning droids set on a kill setting while setting up and arming the sensor devices. He was soon covered in bruises and cuts, sore all over from various near misses where the training droids had almost killed him in their crazed rampages. It got so bad that when he was done he could practically have started dancing with delight.

Then he got another call on his holo transmitter. He switched it on to reveal Master Orgus standing with his arms behind his back as if he were a soldier standing at parade ground.

"I'm here Master," Webch reported. "What is it?"

_"I'm on my way back to the Twi'lek settlement_," Orgus replied. "_Meet me there as soon as you can."_

"You left without explaining anything," Webch said hoping for some information for once. "What has you so worried?"

_"I'll explain when I see you,"_ Orgus said somewhat evasively. _"Find me at the Matriarchs compound. Orgus out."_

And with that he vanished and Webch gave a small sigh of annoyance. Another long slog back to Kalikori village. He wondered when he'd be done with the place?

* * *

The returning trip via Thunderhawk from the battle against Gutwrencha was far different from the tense briefing prior to battle. The squads were in good spirits exchanging jests and wit amongst each other regarding their prowess against the Greenskins. The Sergeants and Force Commander Aramius sat apart from the brothers under their command and their topic of conversation was far different from those of their brothers.

"Frequent focused attacks on critical targets," Cyrus said darkly. "Even if they are rough and brutal it is far to organized for the Orks to be acting without some guidance."

"Since when have you been an expert on Greenskins Cyrus?" Avitus asked distaste in his tone.

"We have all fought the Ork numerous times Avitus," Tarkus replied before turning to Aramius. "Commander I am in agreement with Cyrus. These patterns of attack do not fit with standard Ork tactics."

Aramius nodded. "True enough," he said. "These tactics are to clever for the brutes."

"If you can call them tactics," Avitus snorted.

"Hopefully Captain Thule will have found a lead for us," Tarkus replied.

There was a light thump as the Thunderhawk touched down inside of the _Armageddon_. The restraining bars holding the Space Marines in place lifted away granting them full freedom of motion once more.

"Right then," Aramius said. "See to the needs of your squads Sergeants. I want them rearmed and ready to redeploy as soon as possible. We cannot win this war by remaining idle aboard a Strike Cruiser."

"As you command sir," Tarkus replied.

No sooner had Aramius exited the Thrunderhawk however than Martellus' voice came over the ship wide vox.

"_Commander," _he began. _"Captain Thule is on vox channel one for you."_

Aramius grimaced, so much for a trip to armor to replace a few of the broken teeth on his chainsword.

"Patch him through," he ordered.

There was a brief hiss followed by the drone of a heavy bolter in the background before Captain Thule began speaking.

"_Good work Commander," _Thule stated. "_Gutrencha's death has scattered his Ork band. We have found crucial evidence among the remains of Skykilla and Gutrencha's Orks."_

"What evidence Captain?" Aramius asked now interested.

_"Both had recently visited Felhammer mine in the mountains outside of Argus," _Thule answered_. "Who ever is stirring up these Orks must be using Felhammer as a base of operations."_

A predatory gin came to Aramius' lips. They were close now, close enough that he could taste it.

"_You shall have one hour to prepare your squads before deploying again," _Thule stated. "_Use this time well commander."_

"We shall Captain," Aramius replied. "Thank you for the Heartening news."

"_It is all thanks to you and your Space Marines Commander,"_ Thule replied. _"You have done well. Davian Thule out."_

Communications end Aramius hurried on to the armory. It would not due to miss carving open the mastermind behind this plots head because of a broken chainsword.


	5. Chapter 4: Discoveries

Chapter 4: Discoveries

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_"A more elegant weapon for a more civilized time eh? Well guess what? Times have changed."- Delta 38 "Boss", upon finding a Lightsaber aboard the _Prosecutor.

Agripinaa was a forge world, located close to the Eye of Terror, the Cadian Gate, and within spitting distance of the Sith Empire. The weapons, munitions, ad vehicles it produced went straight there for the most part, aiding the Guardsmen who protected the Imperium against raids out of the Eye of Terror or through the Cadian Relay, the only Mass Relay in Imperial Space. Perhaps for all of these reasons the Confederacy of Independent systems had choosen Agripinaa as their next target.

The Skitarii, the warriors of the Adeptus Mechanicus had put up a heroic fight to keep the Seperatist from taking the key fortifications and manufactorums but had been overwhelmed by wave after wave of battle droids. It was also rumored that several unidentified machine entities had aided in the assault upon the Forge world.

What mattered to the Imperium of Orion was that a critical Forge world had been taken trapping its 80,000,000 man labor force in Separatist hands. Though Cadia had other sources of supplies its situation had been severely hampered by the Separatists cowardly invasion. The order had been given quickly; retake the Forge world with minimal destruction to critical facilities.

Thus four companies of the Iron Hands chapter of the Space Marines arrived, supported by several regiments of Imperial guard, to make war upon this world and reclaim it for the Imperium of Orion. The Separatists had become to adjusted to fighting Clone Troopers of the Imperial Guard. Against Space Marines they were being decimated with frightful ease.

Case in point Primarch Ferrus Manus had just taken the battle field and already a whole company of Super Battle Droids had fallen to his hammer. He carved through the Separatists lines opening a passage for his body guard of Terminators to push through. With another strike he smashed down another droid with an almost disinterested ease. He casually blasted apart another trio with a spray of Storm Bolter fire from his wrist. Separatist forces were collapsing all across the front leaving the Imperial Guard with relatively little to do.

A squadron of STAPs came hurtling towards the Primarch, their droid riders ignoring the heaps of their fellows strewn across the cratered ground. Against regular guard troopers this tactic might have been lethal but against a Primarch and his Terminators it was almost insulting. With careful shots he downed three of them with a single burst. His Terminators took out the rest with a contemptuous barrage.

"_Lord Manus,"_ a deep semi synthetic sounding voice sounded over his personal vox caster. _"Any sign of Nexus Target?"_

"Negative," Ferrus replied driving his hammer into the chest cavity of another Super Battle Droid. "Nexus Target remains concealed."

"_Understood,"_ the voice responded. "_Remain vigilant."_

As the communications link went silent a Separatist AAT came into the plaza and fired its heavy laser cannon. Ferrus dove away from the blast practically delighted to have something serious shooting at him. He surged towards the tank while his Terminators provided covering fire. He deftly evaded the attacks from its Antipersonnel blasters, jumped over a concussion missile from its launchers, and at last closed the distance. With a single strike of his hammer he shattered the tanks front armor, crushing the pilot droid within. He clambered up its battered front and with his second swing tore the turret off.

He hopped down from his recent kill and allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as the tank exploded behind him, shrapnel hardly scratching his master crafted armor. Perhaps he could find some enjoyment in this farce of a battle.

* * *

"Suppressing fire damnit!" Sergeant Marcus Fenix shouted over the tumault of the raging battle. The 3rd Ceran Imperial Guard Regiment had been deployed to Agripinaa in support of Lord Manus' invasion force. Veterans of many urban combat zones the Ceran Guard Troopers or Gears as they preferred to be called had been deployed in force.

Prior to the passed few moments their operations had been a milk run for all intents and purposes. They had cleared a bunker or two, taken out some snipers, obliterated a heavy weapons position, standard fair really. The Space Marines were spearheading the assault and dealing with most of the hard work, not that the guard troopers were complaining.

Then they had stormed into a side facility and had run head long into stiff resistance from the Separatists. The platoons Lieutenant had been cut down early in fight leaving Fenix in command of the mess. The Cerans had gone to cover quickly and began to counter attack. The majority of the droids moved up, careless of their losses, under a hale of particle beam fire and rifle fire.

Ducking down for cover Marcus keyed his radio.

"Command this is Bravo company, first platoon, we're under heavy fire in factory block A-14, requesting back up now," he barked.

"_Who is this?" _ The clearly confused dispatcher asked, what Marcus wouldn't give for Anya to be on the other end instead of this joker. "_Where is Lieutenant Vicks?"_

"This Sergeant Fenix," Marcus replied. "Vicks is KIA, I'm acting platoon commander."

_"Understood_," the dispatcher said slightly shaken by the news. _"I have elements of the 597th Valhallan regiment available to support you."_

"Well get 'em the fuck over here," Marcus snapped. "My guys are dying here!"

A blaster bolt exploded just an inch away from his foot an Marcus cursed. Shifting himself into a firing position he opened up with his Scorpius Pattern MA9C Particle Rifle and blasted down the closest droid in a flurry of bright violet beams. The shots tore the droids head of along with its left arm. It stumbled about for a moment before Marcus put another shot into it, finishing it off.

He shifted back into cover and checked his power cell, forty three percent charge. Hopefully that would hold until back up arrived.

As he moved to resume shooting he saw a something very odd. A Leman Russ Main Battle Tank smashed through the back wall of the factory. It rolled over the ruble clearing the way for a Razorback Transport and an assault bike. What was stranger was that the assault bike had no visible operator.

Then the Leman Russ opened fire, not on the droids as it should have, but on the guard troopers. The four men it killed with its first shot didn't even have time to scream before they were blown to bits. The Razor back opened up with its heavy bolters as did the Assault bike laying down a withering hail of explosive, rocket propelled rounds upon the troopers.

"Command!" Marcus shouted, "Clankers are using our vehicles against us! We have heavy vehicles attacking us, requesting immediate support!"

"_Say again?" _ The dispatcher asked. "_Separatists are using our vehicles?"_

"There's a Russ shooting at us!"

_"Are you sure?"_

"Yes I'm fucking sure!" Marcus shouted as another group of men exploded.

_"I'm not seeing any armored..."_

"Get us heavy support right fucking now or I will track you down, ripe your intestines out your throat, and feed them to dog!" Marcus snarled.

"_Roger that,"_ the dispatcher all but squeaked. "_Alerting the 597th of the situation, ETA, sixty seconds."_

"We don't have a god damned minute!" Marcus snapped.

_"Its the best I can do Sergeant,"_ the dispatcher replied. "_Its all on you for now."_

Marcus cursed and fired a burst at the unmanned assault bike which was speeding towards the nearly broken platoon. His shots tore nast scars into its tire guards, and throttle. It wobbled wildly for a moment.

Then suddenly it transformed into a nine foot tall bipedal mechanical warrior, the heavy bolter from the side car slung under its left arm.

"Holy shit," Marcus whispered.

"Human filth," it said in a high pitched synthetic voice. It then sent a stream of bolter rounds at Marcus forcing him to dive back into cover.

"What the hell is that thing Sarge?" Corporal Clayton Carmine shouted.

"Fuck if I know!" Marcus snarled. "Everyone fall back!"

The Guard troopers didn't need telling twice. They began giving ground to the oncoming machines, a few men pausing to lay down suppressing fire every now and again but nothing they did could stop the mechanical monstrosity tearing at them with the heavy bolter.

Then another wall was smashed down by the arrival of a trio of Chimera's and a Salamander. The four vehicles opened up with their heavy bolters on the mechanical monster and the other Separatist forces. The mechanical creature gave a cry of rage and pain as the heavy bolter rounds blasted off its weapon arm.

_"Ceran 3rd Bravo company, this is Commissar Cain of the 597th," _a much confident sounding voice than the dispatcher. _ "We are providing support, regroup and fall back."_

"Don't need to tell me twice," Marcus replied. "Let's move people!"

The Ceran's retreated back out of the factory. Just as they escaped a red Land Raider rolled past them heading into the factory followed closely by a M12 Warthog, another Salamander, and a Predator tank all of differing colors. Whatever the hell was going on it was well above Marcus' pay grade.

* * *

In all of Commissar Ciaphas Cain's fraudulent career of heroism the bowl freeing terror he felt now as he poured heavy bolter fire from the Salamander into the Decepticon Warrior was hardly anything new. That didn't mean he wasn't fighting back the urge to order the troopers of Lustig's unit and their vehicles to withdraw post haste. Playing into their advantage was the usual idiotic tactical blunders of the enemy.

They had come into factory in vehicle mod severly handicapped the enemies mobility in the tight confines. One was down already, wounded but not killed, the other two however had the armor and fire power to more than make up for their wounded comrade.

"Adjust fire to the Razorbacks heavy bolter," he ordered. "We can't do anything against the Russ."

Just as he gave the orders a familiar red Land Raider smashed its way into the factory with its small escort and commenced fire with its Twin Linked Heavy bolter. Its fellows joined in the assault forcing the Razorback and Leman Russ to begin backpedaling out of the factory. The wounded machine tried to crawl only for the Salamander transform and plant it's foot on the wounded Decepticon's back.

"Hostile secure!" The Autobot shouted.

"They're falling back sir," Jurgen, Cain's utterly filthy aide reported in a bland tone.

"Lustig," Cain said over the platoon combead. "Pull the platoon back and move to encircle the enemy."

"_Roger that Commissar," _Lustig replied.

Giving a small nod to the other vehicles which smashed through the remaining battle droids in the factory Cain motioned to Jurgen to withdraw. The Salamander jerked back, flanked by the Chimera unit. They turned hard and sped down the street, keeping the battered Razorback and Predator in their sights. Cain switched his vox setting to the specially reserved channel for the mission.

"Amberly its Cain," he reported grimly. "Nexus targets located, one captured. Am pursuing with Lustigs Platoon and Prime Team. Alert Lord Manus."

_"Understood Ciaphas,"_ Inquisitor Amberly Vail, Cain's... friend replied. _"Maintain pursuit, reinforcements en route."_

"Be advised that troopers of the 3rd Ceran Guard had a clear view of one target in his true form," Cain added.

"_They'll be taken care of,"_ Amberly replied.

"Nothing permanent if you could," Cain said. "They seem like good soldiers."

"_Don't worry," _Amberly assured him_. "I'll handle it."_

The Leman Russ turned its turret towards Cain's team and fired. Jurgen jerked the steering wheel wildly almost flinging Cain from the vehicle, the shell however missed them and detonated against a buildings walls.

_"Commissar,"_ a deep, synthetic, but calm voice spoke through the vox. _"This is Prime. Keep on their flank, we're right behind them."_

"Understood," Cain replied sending a burst of bolt shells back at the Leman Russ even though he knew it was fruitless.

They moved into a large plaza, wide enough for the vehicles to maneuver effectively. Then sure enough, the two targets transformed like their fellow. The former tank towered over them flanked by his fellow who liked to disguise himself as a Razor back. The opened fire with their heavy weapons forcing the Platoon to scatter.

"Suppressing fire," Cain barked. "Close off the escape routes!"

Even as the Chimera unit fanned out an AAT hovered into the the plaza followed by a trio of STAPs. All three transformed into mechanical warriors as well and poured their own fire on to the fight.

"Ambush!" Cain barked over the vox. "Enemy reinforcements!"

_"Where are you?"_ Amberly asked.

Cain glanced over his shoulder, ducking under a laser blast from one of the former STAPs.

"Volanis plaza," he reported. "We need back up."

_"Hold position," _Prime replied. "_We've got your back_."

Sure enough the Land Raider, Warthog, and Predator Tank rolled in behind them, firing as they approached. One of the STAP Decepticons was blown apart from a direct hit from the Predators main cannon. Swiftly the three vehicles transformed into towering mechanical warriors themselves. The former Razorback charged forwards opening up with the twin linked heavy bolters on its arms. The former Land Raider drew out a massive power axe like weapon and with a swift stroke severed the Razorbacks arms. It howled in agony falling to its knees.

Realizing they were out matched the enemy began to beat yet another hasty retreat only for another of the false STAPs to explode from a missile strike. Lord Ferrus Manus and his Terminators had arrived to lend support. Another False STAP fell to the fire from the Chimera's heavy bolters while the fake AAT and the false Leman Russ made a break for it. They transformed and sped towards the only open street.

"Don't let them escape!" The Land Raider, Prime shouted, surging forwards.

Before he could transform however an ARC 170, and more strangely a Terran Dominion built Wraith Fighter flew into view. For a moment Cain thought it was air support until he saw the purple sigils on the wings. Just as began to shout a warning the two craft swooped down towards the fight. They strafed the plaza with laser fire and missiles, scattering the pursuit force. One missile struck the Warthog in the side causing it fall to the rockcrete covered ground.

"Bumblebee's hit!" The Predator shouted.

"Return fire!" Lord Manus shouted from the far end of the plaza.

The air strike retreated before they could deal any real damage however, leaving the pursuit team confused and battered.

"Amberly," Cain reported. "Two marks escaping, three down, one more captured but we've got wounded, Bumblebee was hit. We have hosiltes in the air as well, keep an eye on the sky for an unregistered 170 and a Dominion Wraith."

"_Understood,"_ Amberly replied her voice turning grim. "_I'm sending in a strike team to sweep the factory first contact was made in. All forces regroup, Separatists are making another counter push two kilometers to the south of your position."_

Cain nodded to himself. "Roger that."

At least, he thought to himself, no one important died. He had a feeling however that the media would be plastering his face over the holonet describing his "heroic rescue" of the 3rd Ceran platoon.

* * *

As the drop pods fell away from the _Armageddon_, Aramius felt a hint of excitement enter into him. They were dropping into felhammer mine and expecting heavy resistance. Thus Cyrus had been ordered to remain aboard the _Armageddon_ with his scouts to provide tactical support via vox.

This would be the critical moment however, the villains behind this vile Ork invasion would be forced out of the shadows where they had hidden themselves. They would wither before the Emperor's judgement and the wrath of his Space Marines. Aramius was certain of it.

The drop pods hit solid ground a moment later and the cushioning foam engaged stopping, absorbing the impact. The drop pod doors gave way and the Space Marines poured out into the pre dusk gloom of Calderis. It may have been dim for most mortal men but to the valiant Space Marines, their super human capabilities gave them perfect visibility.

The mountainous area they had landed in was mostly barren. Little vegetation, few structures most of which showed signs of having been looted. The road leading to the mines proper was little better than a dirt a gravel track that had been crushed smooth by the passing of hundred of Orks and their vehicles.

Right on cue Captain Thule opened a vox channel to them.

"_Move north up the valley commander," _he ordered. "_Get to Felhammer mine and find out who is stirring up the orks_."

"Understood Captain Thule," Aramius replied. "We shall not fail."

They moved into the small mining camp, the shattered buildings providing little comfort to the Space Marines. Aramius had seen the brutality of the orks time and again but it never became any easier to arrive to late to prevent the deaths of the Emperor's loyal subjects.

"Movement to the north!" Tarkus barked breaking Aramius' train of thought.

Aramius followed Tarkus' direction just in time to catch the blue distortion to the air before it vanished.

"Gone," Tarkus growled. "But those were no orks."

"What were they then Sergeant?" Aramius asked.

"I didn't get a good look at them," Tarkus replied. "But they had teleportation technology of some sort."

Aramius frowned, that was troubling news. "Take offensive formations and move out," he ordered. "I want eyes alert for any further contacts."

They moved up the road out of the camp. It did not take them long however to discover further carnage of the Orks. A small group of vehicles lay wrecked by the side of the road, civilian half tracks and flat beds. Scattered about the charred and broken vehicles were numerous bodies, stinking and festering, rotting in the open air. They were dressed in the clothes of miners and by all appearances they had not but up much of a fight. A few had mining lasers scattered among them but they likely had not gotten off many shots before being overwhelmed.

"The Orks butchered this convoy," Avitus growled kicking a broken choopa blade out of a dead miner. "They never stood a chance."

"We shall avenge them Avitus," Tarkus said grimly.

"Avenge them?" Avitus asked. "Why should I care if..."

The explosive cacophony of ork shoota's interrupted Avitus words. Rounds glanced and bounced off the Space Marines armor, one catching one of Tarkus' squad right above the knee. The marine stumble clutching at his wound.

"Orks on the ridge!" Tarkus shouted grabbing his wounded squad member by the pauldron and dragging him out of the line of fire.

"Take cover and return fire!" Aramius barked.

The Space marines scrambled out of the open using the shattered vehicles of the convoy as cover. A quick glance from Aramius confirmed Tarkus' report, a large mob of orks was on the ridge overlooking the road

"FURY FROM THE SKY! CUT THEM DOWN!" A new voice roared.

A moment later several power armor clad Astartes descended upon the ork gunners with wings of fire. The Assault marines tore into their foes with a ruthless zeal hacking them apart with screaming chainswords and blazing bolt pistols. The orks, taken by surprise, were unable to mount any real resistance and within seconds were obliterated by the Space Marines. Then task completed the Assault Marines jumped down to join Aramius' forces.

They were lead by a young sergeant whom Aramius recognized from his days as an initiate. The two former squad mates grinned at one another.

"Sergeant Thaddeus, reporting for duty commander."

"Did you have a pleasant rest?" Avitus sneered. "Waiting for the most dramatic moment to strike?"

"Good to see you to Avitus," Thaddeus replied dryly.

"It has been to long Thaddeus," Aramius said in greeting. "How long has it been since we last fought together?"

"Forty years," Thaddeus replied. "I believe it was at Raxus Prime."

"Right the fight with the Ork looters," Aramius said with a nod as the battle came back to him.

"It seems the Green skins have a way of bringing us together commander," Thaddeus said with a small smile.

"If you are finished we have green skins to kill," Avitus growled.

"Agreed," Aramius said with another nod. "Thaddeus fall in with the rest of the squads. Tarkus take point. We make for Felhammer mine."

"Yes commander," Tarkus said after applying the basic first aid required to stabilize his wounded squad member.

And so they set off again, following the road. They meet some scattered resistance from the orks but they easily swept it aside. Apprehension began to gather in the back of Aramius' mind. If Felhammer was a major staging area as intel suggested there should have been far more orks opposing them than they had thus far encountered. The thought that they may have made a mistake in their hunt galled him.

Then they found a most unusual sight as they drew near the mine. The ground before them was covered in slain orks; dozens, if not hundreds of them.

"Trouble," Avitus growled. "These are the orks guards killed where they stood. Someone else has gone through here."

"Are you sure the orks did not do this to themselves?" Aramius asked.

"_Commander," _Cyrus said suddenly.

"What is it?"

_"I am intercepting transmissions along channels reserved for the Inquisition,"_ Cyrus answered.

"Patch us in," Aramius ordered.

"_One moment commander," _Cyrus said.

There was a moment of static over the vox before a musical if haughty voice was heard.

"_Swiftly! Before the Humans arrive!"_

_"We cannot allow obstinate ork to derail the Farseers plan," _a second voice slightly deeper replied.

"Farseer?" Aramius said raising an eyebrow.

"Eldar," Tarkus growled.

They moved forwards the sounds of battle coming to their heightened senses. They rounded a bend and confirmed Tarkus' statement. Before them, near the entrance to mine were dozens of graceful figures in black armor firing upon a mass green skins who were actually putting up a fight.

"You Gitz fooled Skykilla and Gutrencha but me cyborg eye says you ain't even orks at all!" Roared an ork whose voice Aramius recognized as the Trukk driver from his first deployment.

"What in the name of Terra is going on here?" Thaddeus demanded.

As if they heard the sergeant over the raging battle both sides turned to face the space marines. The Blood Ravens raised their weapons.

"All Eldar forces stand down!" Aramius barked. "By the authority invested in me by the Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens Azariah Kyras, you will lay down your weapons and submit yourselves to interrogation."

"And now the humans join the fray I see." The second Eldar speaker said grimly. "The Fools cannot see the true threat facing us all! Attack!"

"Mork's left fist not Space Marines too!" The ork leader snarled before turning to face his mob. "Time to leg it!"

The orks didn't need telling twice, they scattered as the Eldar turned their weapons on the Space Marines and commenced fire. Avitus and Tarkus' squads returned fire shifting to locate superior cover as the Eldar loosed a torrent of shuriken at them. Aramius saw several Eldar fall but one of Avitus' squad took several hits tumbling forwards upon his heavy bolter.

"Thaddeus!" He shouted. "Strike from the sky!"

"Upon wings of fire!" Thaddeus roared before he and his squad launched themselves into the air. They came crashing down among the Eldar, Thadeus crushing one under his feet as he landed. The Eldar line was broken but they were not beaten. As Aramius charged into the fray one of Thaddeus' marines fell to Eldar knives and one of Tarkus' squad fell slain. He tore into the closest eldar trying to fight his way through them to find a leader.

The Leader found him instead.

A jet of lightning slammed into Aramius immobilizing him. He howled in rage and pain as the energy surged through him ravaging his body. He could see his attacker, a warlock in black with a high wraithbone white helm.

"You shall not stop our plan!" The Warlock proclaimed. "This is for the good of the Eldar and the Imperium!"

Then a large armored shaped knocked Aramius aside and broke the Warlock's assault. Aramius fell to the ground and pushed himself up just in time to see sergeant Tarkus, knife in hand charge the Warlock. The Warlock brought up his sword but Tarkus tackled him to the ground. There was a horrific crack of bones as Tarkus smothered his foe then brought up his knife. With a raw throated roar Tarkus drove the blade into the Warlocks chest.

That was enough for the surviving Eldar. Most scattered while others threw down their weapons and surrendered out right. Tarkus helped Aramius to his feet, his face covered in the Warlock's blood.

"My thanks sergeant," Aramius said.

"Foolish blind... humans..." The Warlock wheezed drawing the two marines attention. Dark blood was pouring heavily from his wound. "The orks could have slowed them down... given us time. You... You have doomed us all."

"Rant all you wish eldar," Tarkus said coldly. "We stand and you have fallen."

With a final groan the Warlock died.

* * *

As Webch hiked back to the Twi'lek village he wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow. He brought out his canteen and took in a long awaited stream of fresh, crisp, cool mountain spring water. Satisfied he replaced his canteen and continued on his way along the trails that lead to the village.

It was starting to get late in the afternoon, Tython's sun was moving towards the edge of the mountains. It would only be a few hours until night fell and the mountains would likely become to dangerous to continue the hunt for the Flesh Raiders mysterious leader. A part of Webch seriously hoped that Master Orgus would call it a day when he arrived at the village.

Suddenly a high pitched squealing scream broke Webch from his musings. He drew out his practice saber and ignited it just in time to see a short squat alien come running onto the path, chased by half a dozen flesh raiders.

Without hesitation Webch snapped into action charging into the fray catching the lead Flesh Raider in the chest with his practice saber. He rolled under a shot fired from the seconds blaster before hamstringing the beast. The third he got in behind and slashed across the back. The remaining three Flesh Raiders abandoned their attack on the terrified alien and turned to face him. Webch raised his practice saber to meet them.

Then suddenly a stream of sharp stones tore into the flesh Raiders downing two of them. Webch turned about just in time to step out of the way of a massive green lizard creature the sight of whom brought back sudden horrible memories to his mind.

The sounds of blaster fire, screaming clone troopers, the harsh laughter of vicious aliens, the hot confines of droid access passages.

"Are you alright?" A woman's voice asked.

Webch shook himself back into focus and saw another padawan standing over him. He quickly realized he had fallen to his knees and pushed himself back up.

"I'm okay," he replied.

The other padawan frowned. She was tall with an almost disturbingly well angled face, with dark red hair pulled back in a pony tail. Her ears had slight points to them and her eyes were an almost luminous shade of violet. She wore elegant but form fitting robes of a padawan and like himself carried a practice saber. About her neck however was a single light blue amulet.

"I sense much conflict in you human," she said. "Long buried but now laid bare. Something to do with my companion?"

She motioned behind him and Webch turned to see what he had feared. Helping the other Padawan, an Unngoy strangely enough, was a Trandoshan. The green scale covered lizard was easily a head taller than Webch and dressed in garments that suggested he was a hunter of some sorts. Rather than a rifle he bore a large vibrosword on his back which was stained with fresh blood from the slain Flesh Raiders.

"I've had bad experiences with Trandoshans," Webch replied grimly. Then he remembered his manners. Turning about he gave his rescuer a small bow.

"Webch Anter," he said by way of introduction. "Forgive me for asking but are you an Eldar?"

"Teliana Vicarus," she replied mimicking his movement. "Half Eldar actually. I have heard of you though Webch Anter."

"Oh?" Webch asked.

"You saved the Padawan's in the training grounds from Flesh Raiders this morning," she replied. "You are master Orgus Din's new padawan. A great honor."

"It is," Webch agreed, then he glanced over his shoulder again at the the Trandoshan. "What's he doing here?"

"He," Teliana said, "is a guest and old friend of my master, Yuon Par. His name is Qyzen Fess, a respect hunter."

"Sure," Webch muttered.

"You should let you old grievences go padawan," she said sagely. "Hatred and distrust lead to the darkside."

Before Webch could reply something grabbed him about the waist and pulled him into a hug.

"You save me!" A high pitched wheezy voice said form around his lower back. He turned to see the Unngoy Padawan wrapped about his waist. "Me owe you forever!"

"It was nothing," Webch said hoping to the Force that the Unngoy did not have life debts like the wookies. "Who are you and what were you doing out here?"

The Unngoy looked up with his beady black eyes filled with joyous tears.

"Me Tapya, Padawan to Master Coldrush," the little alien replied. "She send me out to find ruins. Dig up artifacts of ancient Jedi. Then big scary shark men attack me. Then me run and scream and find you!"

"Almost every Padawan has been ordered back to the temple when the Flesh Raider attacks began," Teliana said flatly. "Why were you still out?"

Tapya suddenly released Webch looking uncomfortable.

"Tapya... uh..." He began clearly flustered. "It hot day, me get tired digging in ruins. So me go and find nice shady spot and... took a nap."

"You slept through the Flesh Raider attacks?" Webch said incredulously.

"Me heavy sleeper," Tapya said suddenly defensive.

Teliana shook her head in annoyance.

"I'll take him back to the temple," she said. "You should get in doors as well."

"Its not much further to the Twi'lek village," Webch replied. "I should be fine, besides Master Orgus wanted to meet me there."

"May the Force be with you then Webch Anter," Teliana said wisely before making a bow.

"And you as well Teliana Vicarus," Webch answered mimicking the movement. "May our paths cross again in happier times."

She then turned and motioned for the Trandoshan and the Unngoy to follow her. They soon rounded a bend out of Webch's view and were gone.

With a small sigh Webch continued along the path to the village. By the time he arrived, the sun had dipped below the horizon and was sending out its last rays of light, painting the sky a beautiful mosaic of colors. He wished he could have taken a picture.

The village itself however he found was moving to a more guarded state. A few armed settlers patrolled the perimeter of the village equipped with the weapons he had stolen from the Flesh Raiders. Almost everyone else was heading inside of their fragile homes for the evening and locking the doors.

When he walked into the Matriarchs home he found Master Orgus tinkering on a deactivated Teeseven.

"Master," he said by way of greeting.

"About time you got back," Orgus answered without looking up from his work. "I was about to ask the Matriarch to send a search party after you."

"I doubt she would have liked that," Webch said dryly. "How is she?"

"Not long for this world," Orgus replied grimly. "Her daughter is with her right now."

Webch nodded.

"I took care of things at Kaleth," he said.

"I know," Orgus replied. "Master Kiwiiks sent me a message just before she left the planet. This news of Flesh Raiders using the Force is troubling."

Then the Jedi master let out a weary sigh and rose to face him, his face somber.

"You said you knew who the hooded figure from the holo was," Webch pressed hoping for answers at last.

"Set yourself up first," Orgus ordered. "We're going to be spending the night here. I'll tell you everything while we eat."

Webch nodded an quickly set about his task. He set his pack down in a corner out of the way and took out his bed roll. As he set it up he watched Master Orgus sit down on his own roll. The Jedi master took out his lightsaber and set it down on the floor before him, He stared at for a long while as Webch worked.

Once his bed was set up Webch quickly pulled out one of the field ration packages he had taken from Orgus' supply. The package read Instant Noodles, it elicited a small grimace from him. Military grade rations rarely tasted better than cardboard. He passed a package to Master Orgus who cracked tore open the top of the it, poured in some water from his canteen, then cracked the thermal seal starting the heating process. Webch did likewise with his own package and fished two spoons out of his pack. They ate together in silence for a few moments before Orgus at last began to speak.

"Master Kiwiiks believed the Flesh Raiders were learning to use the Force from old holocrons," he began. Then he sighed and set aside his noodles. "I wish that were true."

"So you know whose behind this?" Webch asked.

Master Orgus nodded.

"The man that attacked you when you first arrived? His lightsaber had a familiar aspect. This droids holo recordings confirmed my suspicions," the jedi master said and before Webch's very eyes it looked as though Orgus was more than twice his age, weighed down by sorrow. "The hooded figure in that recording is named Bengal Morr. He was my padawan but he never completed his training."

"Why?" Webch asked. "What happened to him?"

"Bengal was in the Jedi temple on Coruscant when the Sith destroyed it during their ill fated assault on the planet."

Webch grimaced, now it was starting to make sense. "I thought the Sith failed to take Coruscant?"

"Tactically we won at Coruscant," Orgus explained his voice turning grim. "But strategically the Sith won there. The Emperor counter attacked swiftly enough to drive the Sith off the planet before they could cause excessive damage to civilian population centers but the Temple was among the first places the Sith hit. They crashed a shuttle loaded with dark Jedi and commandos right into the temples entrance hall. Then they stormed out overwhelmed the few experinced knights and masters present along with the security forces. They began rounding up and executing younglings and planting explosives to torch the place. Hundreds of Jedi died that day, we never recovered all of the bodies."

Webch stared down at his noodles a pit having opened up within his chest. "So that's why the Emperor agreed to the treaty of Coruscant?"

"The Sith had shown just how vulnerable we were, and had crippled the Jedi Order in a single battle," Orgus agreed. "We couldn't keep fighting the Sith and the Tyranids and all of the other threats we were facing. We needed time to regroup and rebuild. But we need to go back Bengal."

"Right sorry," Webch apologiezed.

"It's all right," Orgus replied. "Bengal was strong in the Force, and the most gentle being I've ever known. For him to turn against the Jedi..."

"We have to stop him," Webch finished for him.

Master Orgus nodded.

"You'd best finish that up," he said motioning to Webch's noodle package. "We've got some work ahead of us tonight."

"We're going back out?" Webch asked.

"No," Orgus replied. "We're training. I'd rather you not fight Bengal if we can help it but you should be prepared in any case. He's had over a decade to improve his dueling skills from when I knew him. You'll need every advantage you can get."

Nodding in agreement Webch finished his noodles and collected his practice saber. He had to wait another minute for Orgus to finish his own noodles. The Jedi Master then brought out a practice saber of his own and tested its weight stretching himself, going through basic Shii-cho moves.

"Darn things," Orgus muttered. "I swear they make these things heavier and heavier every year. And people wonder why we have so many accidents with real lightsabers?"

"Are you serious?" Webch asked.

"Dead serious," Orgus replied.

Then the two began to circle one another, each trying to keep the other in his sights. Neither of them moved to engage the other just yet.

"You have good foot work," Orgus commented.

"Thank you master," Webch replied.

"I've heard about your duel with the Judicator intiate," Orgus continued. "You did well against a stronger opponent but you cut it pretty close."

Webch then moved in swinging his practice saber high. Master Orgus parried the blow easily and Webch moved to strike at the Jedi Master's side. Without much movement Master knocked away the strike then raised up a hand a with a single Force push knocked Webch back a good ten feet. Unlike his encounter with the Flesh Raider however Webch was ready for this attack and kept his footing. Master Orgus then assumed a smooth Soresu opening stance.

"You adjust well and you can hit fast but you're not fast enough to break a true Soresu practioner," Orgus commented.

"I was just warming up," Webch replied with a wry smile. "Your a little old Master, wanted to make sure you wouldn't strain yourself."

"Don't fool yourself," Orgus said a smile of his own coming. "I may be old but I'm not that old, this body still has some miles in it before I need to go in for a rejuvination treatment."

Webch engaged again, slashing at Orgus's legs but the jedi master blocked the attack quickly. Orgus used a riposte but Webch rolled in behind him and swung for Orgus's lower legs. This time the Jedi Master had to jump forward to avoid the strike. Webch pressed in but Orgus quickly blocked his next attack. Webch feinted to the right only to go left and make another strike only for Orgus to yet again block the attack. He rolled away from Orgus' counter attack and swiftly rose to his feet.

"Your Ataru variant is most interesting," Orgus commented. "Most Ataru practioners require a lot more space to work their form but yours is much tighter, similar in concept to Makashi or Soresu."

"I figure I need to be able to work in close spaces," Webch replied.

"Like the ducts of a starship?"

Webch struck again with a single power swing, Orgus blocked it with a calm ease. Webch then realized his hands were shaking.

"You know about the Prosecutor?" Webch asked.

"I read the debreifing," Orgus answered. "It wasn't that highly classified."

Webch pulled back getting some distance from Orgus but the Jedi Master made no move to attack him.

"You know what happened then," Webch replied keeping his tone even.

"I want to hear it from you," Orgus replied. "I can feel the conflict within you padawan. You need to absolve yourself of it, or Bengal will destroy you with it."

Webch moved in again with another flurry of blows which Orgus blocked in perfect rhythm.

"We were supposed to be protecting Correlian trade lanes from pirate attacks," Webch began. "We got a distress signal a, ship had lost power not far from out position. They said life support was failing, so Captain Martz ordered the ship to intercept. When we got there the ship had lost all power, it was cold on the thermals. We tractored the ship in and brought it aboard."

Then Webch took a step back his eyes closed as he remembered the horrors.

"Then the Trandoshans boarded us," He continued. "They'd squeezed ninety assault mercenaries and countless scavenger droids aboard the ship. They overwhelmed the hangers and quickly began over running the ship. We tried to call for help but more of their ships came out of hyperspace and jammed our comms. They deployed more mercenaries and battle droids. The Captain ordered the ship to make an emergency jump to try and get clear of the Trandoshans but by the time we jumped hundreds were aboard along with their droid allies."

"The Prosecutor was lost for over a week," Orgus said sympathetically. "How did you survive?"

"I hid," Webch admitted. "The other Jedi aboard, Knight Calith ordered me to. I ran into the droid access passages and cowered, even as I could hear men screaming and dying around me. I only left the safety they provided to steal rations or medical supplies for almost a week. I felt Knight Calith die on day two."

He paused then considering his next words.

"His death didn't bother you as much as it should have did it?" Orgus asked calmly.

"I think," Webch said slowly. "I'd been surrounded by so much of it I'd just gotten used to it. And I know thats horrible but its the truth. I had to ignore it all or it would have driven me insane."

Orgus nodded grimly.

"Few Jedi can maintain control in such a situation," he said. "Bengal couldn't. That may be your only hope against him."

Webch nodded, not speaking.

"So how did the events on the Prosecutor create your new Ataru form?" Orgus asked.

"Tight spaces and bullets," Webch replied. "Soresu, Niman, Makashi, Shien, Shii-cho... none of them are much good against the slugthrowerers the Trandoshans used. Juyo wouldn't work either, I'm not bulky enough to pull it off properly. That left Ataru, speed and agility were the only advantages I could count on."

"I see," Orgus said with a nod. "You use many close rolls and tumbles to get in and around your opponents."

"Its not perfect," Webch replied pulling up one of his sleeves to reveal old scars on his arms. "I got hit more than once using it. But it kept me alive until help arrived."

"Commando Squad Delta," Orgus concluded.

Webch nodded.

"Their leader, Boss, found me in one of the droid access passages. He was a little banged up but he was the first real help or hope I'd had since the attack began," he said a small smile returning to his face. "I helped him regroup his squad; Fixer, Sev, and Scorch. Then we began to retake the ship, it felt right. They were able to keep calm even in the worst of situations. They saved my life and the ship."

"Do you still keep in contact with them?" Orgus asked.

"They named me an honorary squad member," Webch answered. "I keep tabs on them when I can. I owe them my life."

Orgus nodded once again.

"Friends forged in fire are stronger than steel," he said.

"Never heard that one before," Webch replied.

"That's cause I made it up," Orgus said with a smile.

Webch grinned. He felt a little bit better now, more at peace with himself. Could one conversation really do all that much?

"Now," Master Orgus said. "I figure I need to show you how to properly preform a Soresu form. It may not work against bullets but it may save your life."

"I am ready to learn master," Webch said with a bow.

"You might not have that opinion in the morning," Orgus warned him.

And so they set to work, for hours and hours, long into the night. Master Orgus was a patient if hard teacher reminding Webch of some of the sergeants he had meet with the Imperial guard. They practiced the form together for a while, Orgus guiding him through the motions one by one, correcting his posture and form at every mistake. Orgus even showed him several moves that could be applied to various other forms of lightsaber combat including Webch's prefered Ataru.

Once he had the form's motions down properly Master Orgus tested him on it with both practice saber and probe droids he had brought along. Webch was soon working up a sweat and his muscles stung from every failed parry. More than once he had become so frustrated he had nearly thrown his weapon away only for Master Orgus to change tactics to strengthen his defenses.

It was well passed midnight when Master Orgus called a halt to the lesson.

"Your nowhere near a master of the form yet," he commented. "But you won't get killed five minute into a fight with your current progress. You should practice whenever you can."

"Thank you master," Webch said sitting down on his bed roll and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Get some sleep," Orgus ordered. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow."

Webch nodded and crawled into his bed roll. He was fast asleep in minutes, his thoughts wandering to Master Kiwiiks' pretty padawn Kira.


End file.
